From the 15 Year Old Me
by hokkyokukou
Summary: Kuroko had saved them then, but it had been five years since they had seen those blue eyes of his. Their lives at age twenty were spiraling out of control. Kuroko could not save them this time, but what about the child with those same eyes? The story of six adults saved by a growing boy whose name was Shiroko Tetsuya. Semi-reincarnation fic.
1. what kind of hell

**I: what kind of hell**

The scab on Aomine Daiki's chin was beginning to itch like crazy, but there was nothing he could do about it if he wanted to avoid a scar.

His fingers twitched, and his mind could focus on nothing else, which was probably why he was bumping into people so often. He apologized absent-mindedly, completely oblivious to the rancid gaze belonging to a woman he had jostled three times in the span of five minutes, and headed to the canned soup section, which was his new best friend. He barely spared any notice to the soup he piled into his shopping cart, noting fleetingly that he might be living on clam chowder for the next few days.

The thought wasn't appetizing, but, hell, that scab was _itching_.

On the way to the check-out line, he grabbed a box of band-aids and a can of salted peanuts. In line, he caught sight of a cooking magazine—maybe looking at rich people making real food would take his mind off his pitiful circumstances and that god-awful itching.

He pushed his cart to the cashier without sparing a glance.

"Good evening, did you find everything you need?"

* * *

Kagami Taiga really didn't know what was going through his head when he applied for this job as cashier, but he was sorely regretting it. It was the most boring thing in the world, and he had to deal with idiots who were even stupider than he was on a daily basis.

"Good evening, did you find everything you need?" he repeated once every five minutes. "Have a nice day."

Have a fucking wonderful day.

_THIS IS THE MOST BORING JOB IN THE WORLD,_ Kagami screamed in his head. _WHY DID I APPLY FOR THE MOST BORING JOB IN THE WORLD._ Even purposely making it awkward for the men who bought nine tubes of lube by letting out a small, meaningful _heh_ didn't make up for the ultimate boring job.

The next customer came (_"Good evening, did you find everything you need?")_ and gave him the cart to unload.

Peanuts. Bananas. Gum. Band-aids. Toilet paper. Soup. Soup. Soup. Soup. Soup. Soup. Soup.

"The hell?" Kagami couldn't help but mutter as he scanned in soup can after soup can. He took a glance at the customer and choked on his spit.

"Aomine!?"

"Wh—the hell? Kagami? What are you doing here?"

_That's my line!_ Kagami would have crabbed in any other circumstance, but the sight of Aomine's face stopped the words in his throat. Deep bags under his eyes accentuated the hollowness of his cheeks, which, in turn, highlighted the thin, long scab decorating his chin. All thoughts of scanning soup lost, Kagami knitted his brows and tapped his own chin.

"Where'd that come from?"

Aomine blinked as if stunned Kagami was concerned for his well-being before giving a sheepish grin.

"From work," he said, tapping his thumb against the police badge on his chest. "Some crazy drunk I was trying to get into the car pulled a knife on me. I was stupid and didn't realize he had the knife on him."

"Ah," Kagami said, resuming the soup-scanning. He did a double take. "Wait what?"

"What?"

"You're actually _working_?"

Aomine responded by flipping him the finger and saying, "What, did you think I was being a bum this entire time?"

"Uh, yeah." Kagami blinked. "Wait, what?"

"What?" Aomine said exasperatedly. "Are you going to ask how on earth a boob-loving bastard like me made it on the police force, because F-Y-I, I had to cancel my magazine subscription and _god_ you don't even know what kind of hell—"

"No, no, no, stop," Kagami said, holding up a hand. "I don't give two shits about your perverted life. You're going on _patrol_?"

Last time Kagami checked, Aomine was still nineteen. People didn't go on duty when they were nineteen.

"Yeah, well," Aomine said as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "They said I had the guts and the 'talent'—whatever talent a police officer can have, at any rate. And then they told me that as long as I go to school for at least two years, I can follow people around a few hours a day."

Kagami had to admit he was a little jealous. It beat scanning soup cans for hours by a long mile. He scowled at the next soup can in line—just how _many_ were there?

"Why are you buying all this soup? You got a canned-soup fetish or something?"

"Nah, I have the lady on the canned soup fetish," Aomine said, grinning. "She's gotta be at least a G."

Kagami almost rolled his eyes, but refrained upon realizing that his manager was staring at him like a rabid dog ready to kill him for talking so much. He swallowed and dutifully scanned the soup cans. As much as this job sucked, it _was_ his source of income.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Aomine probed with a scrutinizing scowl. "Last time I checked, you lived in an apartment by yourself."

"Last time you checked was almost four years ago," Kagami retorted. His aggression dribbled into a mumble. "Some stuff happened. But this soup… what is it for, really?"

"Eating?"

Kagami's eyebrow twitched.

"Well, duh, but where are the vegetables?"

"Inside?"

"Like, _real_ vegetables!"

Aomine waved a hand. "Don't need 'em. Waste of refrigerator space. Not that I even have one."

"You're gonna die of malnutrition."

"Come to my funeral?"

"Nope," Kagami said. "The last one was enough for a lifeti—"

He abruptly stopped, both words and action. The soup can was suspended in air, clasped tightly in his frozen hand. He only realized now what he had been about to say. Aomine's eyes had grown wide, the emotion inside unreadable.

Kagami quickly swiped the soup can and was relieved to find that it had been the last.

"Eat better," he said gruffly as he dumped Aomine's bags onto the counter. "You look like shit that's been shit on."

"Y-Yeah," Aomine said, looking perturbed. "Later."

As if his expression wasn't enough to show how affected he'd been by Kagami's slip-of-the-tongue, Aomine let Kagami's unintentional insult slide.

After Aomine left, Kagami relaxed his stiff shoulders, wondering when he had grown so tense. Dumb. He should have gotten over it by now. It was no comfort at all that Aomine was the same. Time had passed. They'd grown up. It was time to move on. He passed his next shudder off as a stretch.

In the momentary reprieve, he leaned against the cash register and let his eyes wander. Ahhh, someone had tipped over the orange stand again. Of course, it was going to be Kagami's job to pick up every damn orange that had scuttled away. The nearest orange had landed at the base of a rack of bouncy balls, which had attracted the attention of a hyper-active boy.

"Dad, can we get one?"

Said dad scooped the boy up and set him on a throne of shoulder. "Which one you want?"

"The blue one—no, no, the orange one!"

"The basketball?"

Kagami smirked. The kid was smart.

The basketball was put into the cart. Kagami nodded his head at the man, indicating that he was free.

"Good evening, did you find everything you need?" Kagami said, giving the basketball a definitely not creepy stroke of love before scanning it.

"I did, thank you."

"Dad, look! He's got scissors for eyebrows!"

The blades of Kagami's 'scissors' twitched, and he couldn't help but sneak a glance at the offensive child. Chubby, rosy cheeks underneath a mess of black hair that looked as if it had only been recently lifted out of a bed. And underneath that, a pair of strikingly—

_—Blue eyes that wouldn't close even under the pelting rain_—

That child's eyes were too blue, far too blue. The pineapple dropped from Kagami's hand. His eyes grew wide, and his breath came short. The man's brow crinkled, but Kagami was oblivious, aware only of the child's—

_—wide, mildly surprised expression that still ghosted his frozen face—_

The man was saying something, but Kagami was deaf to his words; he could only hear the child say—

_"Tell me he'll be al—"_

"—right? Are you alright?"

Kagami resurfaced like a drowning man, gasping for air. He wiped away the sweat that had appeared and took up the pineapple with a shaking hand.

"Sorry," Kagami said, punching in numbers.

"Are you alright?" the father said. "I can switch lanes if you need to take a breather. You had quite a moment there."

"No," Kagami said. He scanned the items as rapidly as he could, never lifting his eyes from the scanner. The bags were loaded onto the cart. The man was ready to go. His child still sat on his shoulders, drumming chubby hands happily on his head.

He took a step—

"W-wait!"

Kagami kicked himself in the leg for calling out so stupidly. The man and his son turned.

"Uh," Kagami said, wilting a bit. "If… I'm not a stalker or anything but… your, uh, kid is very, uh, cute. What's his name?"

Laughing a little, the man shrugged. "This little guy?"

Kagami nodded.

"His name is…"

After they had left, Kagami quietly closed his lane and signed out for the day. The wind had never tasted so sweet on his bike-ride home. It was sweet enough to make him vomit. The scent of pollen and freshly-bloomed flowers overwhelmed him, sending him toppling off his bike and into the grass. He lay eagle-spread, and for the first time in almost four years, he wanted to cry.

He passed a hand over his eyes.

"What kind of hell…"

_Would give a kid with those blue eyes the name 'Shiroko Tetsuya'?_


	2. wilted remains

**II:** **wilted remains**

While Kagami was wasting his life away under a witheringly miserable sun, Aomine was working hard to finish his university homework before his next patrol began.

Yes, Aomine Daiki was working hard.

If only Momoi could see him now, she'd have a heart attack…

The pen halted in its scrawl. Aomine cocked his head and gave out an exasperated sigh-snarl. Why'd she come up all of a sudden? He hadn't seen her in over a year…

In any case, why was using your brain so damn _hard?_ After doing nothing but living, breathing, and thinking basketball, it had been a rough transition to thinking about triangles and politics and public policy. Jesus, even hearing the word 'politics' gave Aomine a headache. Pitiful, he knew, but it was way better than whiling his life away by uprooting dandelions and watching their seeds dance in the wind. He grimaced at the memories of that part of his life—_all for you, Tetsu—_and scribbled out a half-assed answer to his public policy homework.

Enough was enough; the sun was beginning to set. Aomine pulled on a jacket over his uniform because, although it was already late spring, the weather got chilly at night. He locked his door and hopped outside, where he found a police car awaiting him.

Driving the patrol car was Officer Yu, a man in his early thirties who had a big smile and small hands. His hand size was the butt of the jokes in the workplace, but he took it in stride, often poking fun of them himself. He seemed to be too kind to be a police officer, but when it came to protecting civilians, he was more serious than anyone Aomine had ever met.

Aomine gruffly admitted that Officer Yu was a bit of an inspiration.

"Where are we going tonight?" Aomine asked, unable to squash the eager tone that won over his usual drawl.

Officer Yu replied, "Kaiyou University. I'm going to show you the party life here."

"Are we gonna arrest some people?"

"Not this time," Officer Yu said with a chuckle. He turned his cap to a slight angle, a habit of his, Aomine noticed, that arose whenever he was feeling on edge. "University kids get it easy. There are too many underage drinkers to contain, so we let them go so long as they don't do anything really stupid."

"So, what do we do?"

"Roam around the streets to make sure they're not doing anything really stupid. Prevent accidents. Take the really drunk ones somewhere safe. Small things like that. It's about time the club starts kicking kids out. That's the club over there."

As they pulled up to the curb, stream of students was beginning to straggle out of the building full of neon lights. The music was so loud Aomine could hear it from the curb. The stench of alcohol was poignant. People were stumbling over themselves, delirious, inebriated, high. Aomine could see some of them point at the patrol car, could hear them laugh. He bristled, but Officer Yu patted him on the shoulder.

"Of course they'll laugh at authority at times like these," he said breezily, but his hand was at his cap again. "Because they're out there defying law and there's nothing we can do about it. Oh, dear," he said suddenly. "Looks like one of them got a bit too drunk."

A blond—was he a foreigner?—doubled over and emptied out his entire stomach on the sidewalk. People were laughing again, but no one bothered to go over and check on the blond. His shirt was half unbuttoned, and bruises were visible even from Aomine's distance.

"Let's go," Officer Yu said, nudging Aomine.

"R-Right."

As he swung himself out of his seat, Aomine got an eerie feeling deep in the pits of his stomach, like some sense of foreboding was trying to crawl out of him—

"Oh, god, no," he muttered.

All of a sudden, the foreboding feeling exploded, peppering his insides with ice. That golden hair was too familiar for comfort, and the silver hoop dangling off one ear wasn't doing anything to make Aomine feel better.

Officer Yu took the blond under the armpits and heaved him to his feet.

"C'mon, kid, you got better places to sleep than in your own vomit," he huffed, trying to keep the blond steady. Aomine wanted to tell him _give up_ and _let's go home_. The blond lurched suddenly, and Officer Yu took a nimble step back, neatly avoiding the next projectile of vomit launched into the air. Aomine's feet were not so lucky and were splattered at the edges. But he didn't even care.

His world was caving in, and for all he knew, he was looking through a fish-hole centered on the woozy blond. Bruises everywhere. Red marks lining him from the neck down.

_It's not supposed to be happening this way_.

Tangled hair. Vomit. The stench of alcohol. A whiff of smoke.

_I should be the most messed up out of our entire group. Not him._

_Not him!_

Everything was backwards now. Out of all of them, Aomine should have been the one without a job, without an education, getting drunk and drugged up and laid every night, because he was as lazy as hell and stupid to boot—but this kid—not this kid—

Then his eyes found it. A small, red dot on one arm, the size of a needle.

Before he knew it, he was seeing red, and as those hazy, fogged-up golden eyes met his, he felt his fist swing wildly and make contact with clammy skin.

"The hell do you think you're doing?!" he heard himself shouting. Those groggy yellow eyes tried to focus on him, tried to pin his identity down, but Aomine could tell that they were out of commission. It was only because Officer Yu was yelling at him to calm down that he kept himself from knocking the living shit out of that kid.

"The hell are you doing?" he demanded. "The _hell_ are you doing?"

He couldn't even bring himself to spit out the blond's name, because _this _wasn't the boy he used to know; this mess wasn't anything _close_ to the boy he knew. His knees must have given way from the shock, because he was kneeling, hands scrabbling for a hold on the other boy's shoulders. He shook him hard.

"_Why_?" he demanded. His voice was like sandpaper. "I don't understand. _Why?!"_

Everything was backwards; he couldn't comprehend this; there was no explanation, none that he wanted to hear, anyways.

"Calm down, Aomine!" Officer Yu said sharply. "He can't hear you—he just lost it." His tone lost its harsh edge as he inquired, "Do you… know him?"

Aomine's words were lost in the knot in his throat. Anger and sadness twisted his innards into knots, competing for a place in his emotions. He tried to shut it down, but the sight of that boy slumped in Officer Yu's arms sent him into a seething mess.

"I don't know what sort of relationship you have with this kid, but remember what I always tell you," Officer Yu said, adopting a slow, steady tone. "The number one thing is to remain calm. Get a hold of yourself, Aomine."

Aomine closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. All he could see was the blinding smile belonging to a boy with gold hair. And when he opened his eyes again, all he could see was the wilted remains of that breathless image.

He stood and brushed the dirt off his knees.

"His name is Kise Ryouta," he said in a voice so flat that it reminded him of Kuroko. His stomach lurched again. He tasted blood in his mouth. He'd bitten his own lip. He wiped the blood off with his thumb and turned sharply on his heel. The wrangled smile that rose to his face split the wound further. He spat out the blood bitterly.

"I don't know him."

* * *

"Yo, Midorima, why don't you get some sleep?"

Without giving his roommate the slightest hint of recognition, Midorima flipped the page to his organic chemistry text book and scribbled onwards.

"Yo, man, it's three. I want to sleep. And you know I can't sleep with the lights on."

"Purchase a sleeping mask," Midorima said. "I have told you many times that it is your lucky item of the year, but you fail to take heed of my suggestions. You have only yourself to blame."

"Come on—"

"Tanaka Tarou," Midorima said, slapping his pencil onto the desk. "While you may be as average as your name, I am not. I am planning to graduate from university in three years and from medical school in three. Allow me peace in my studies."

Tanaka Tarou shrugged and pulled the covers around his head. "I was going to say that it's not good for your health. I've been your roommate since freshman year, and you don't look the same as you did back then."

"My health is my own business," Midorima shot back. "And I'll have you know that your concern for me goes unappreciated. So, stop."

"Jeez, alright. Just remember to thank me when I call the ambulances to save you from becoming some wilted remains of yourself."

Midorima was already back to his textbook. How presumptuous of his roommate to think that Midorima's health had deteriorated to the point where it needed concern. He ate his meals regularly, twice a day. He washed his hands routinely. He went to bed by four and woke up at seven. Everything about his schedule was completely, meticulously regulated, and there was no way he, Midorima Shintarou, would have to worry about something so trivial as his health.

"Listen," Tanaka said. Midorima heaved a sigh. The stupid baboon would do better to just bury his head in his blankets and suffocate. "No, really, listen. I talked to one of your friends from high school the other day. One Kazunari Takao. Ring a bell?"

There was a pause in Midorima's pencil scratching. After a moment, he resumed.

"Not really."

Tanaka Tarou sighed, like he knew Midorima was playing dumb. "He didn't give me the details, but he thinks you're blaming yourself for something that happened when you guys were finishing up your first year of high school."

There was a snap; Midorima couldn't help it. He had broken his pencil in two. Tanaka Tarou had emerged from his cave of blankets and was studying Midorima with an eye that was too un-average to fit his name. "This is what it's all about, isn't it? All this work is to keep you busy so that you don't have any time to think about things."

"Unlike you, my head is filled with many things," Midorima said through gritted teeth. He wanted to tell Tanaka Tarou that he knew nothing, to shut up. It infuriated him that an _outsider_ was trying to patronize him.

"And maybe even your aspirations for medical school were influenced by that, too. I don't know what you think you did back then," Tanaka Tarou said. He was finally retreating back into his blankets. "But killing yourself isn't going to redeem you. Take better care of yourself."

Moments later, the air was filled with only the sound of Tanaka Tarou's snores. And a minute after that, the sound of a fresh pencil scratching away at paper smothered his snores out.

* * *

_This is a haiku  
The author is quite grateful  
Thanks for the support_


	3. sounds like rain

**III: sounds like rain**

"So, where are we going?"

Officer Yu offered Aomine a stick of gum, but he turned it down.

"We're going to give that kid a place to sleep," Officer Yu said, sticking his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the drunk, senseless zombie sleeping in the back.

"So… the hospital?"

"Nah. He's not ER-worthy. We're going to pay a visit to an old friend of mine who lives around here. He'll enjoy the company."

Aomine gave him a dead stare.

"The company of a drunk, senseless zombie?"

"The company of a drunk, senseless zombie," Officer Yu confirmed. "Is that the way you treat all your friends? No wonder you have all this time to patrol with an old guy like me."

"He's not my friend," Aomine muttered. "And I don't have friends."

Officer Yu hummed a little, tapping a hand against his leg to keep beat.

"Or maybe you don't want friends?" he said, casting Aomine a sidelong-glance. Aomine shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket and tucked his mouth under the collar.

"Shut up, old man."

"Sounds like rain," Officer Yu commented vaguely as he pulled into a driveway belonging to an average-sized house settled in a large plot of land. "I'll go ring the doorbell, so you carry this 'Kise Ryouta.'"

"Shoving the grunt work off on me," Aomine grumbled, but he grudgingly got out of the car. "But it's three in the morning… I'd be mad as hell if someone came by to drop a drunk kid off at this time."

Kise smelled awful; there was no nice way to put it. Aomine grimaced and dragged him out of the car, smirking when Kise fell to the ground with a satisfying thunk. He pulled him by the arm about halfway to the door at which point he courteously heaved Kise up and slung an arm around his shoulders under the amused eye of Officer Yu.

"Your old man friend not answering the door?"

"He'll answer," Officer Yu said. He swung his arms around and then got into a boxing stance. "Hey, you think I could punch the door down?"

"No," the door said, and it opened. The porch light flooded the area and illuminated the figure of a man who looked to be in his early thirties with a crop of healthy black hair. At Aomine's height, he stood about two inches taller than his policeman friend.

"Oh, you again," he said, making to close the door. Officer Yu stuck in his foot at the last second, before the door could shut.

"'Sup."

"Lol, I'm J-K. Come in," the man said, opening the door wide. Aomine blinked a little because if his ears were not deceiving him, the man had just pronounced 'lol' as if it were a word and spelled out 'jk,' the abbreviation for 'just kidding.'

"Jesus," Aomine muttered, hauling Kise into the house.

"You can set the kid on the couch over there," the man said. "I'll bring some clean clothes. I'm Shiroko Toru, by the way. You are?"

"Aomine Daiki," Aomine mumbled, trudging to the couch, which was, thank god, only a few feet away. He thought that smelling any more of Kise than he already had would drive him insane. He'd prefer an itchy scab over that any day. Speaking of which…

"Damn, I shouldn't have thought about that scab," Aomine groaned.

When he came back with the clothes, Toru nudged Aomine with a sly grin. "What do you think about my youthful ways, huh?"

"What?" Aomine said, pulling a face. "You mean saying 'lol' and 'jk' like an idiot?"

"Is that any way to speak to your elder—no, I cannot say it," Toru said, touching his forehead as if afflicted. Aomine was horrified to find that he was suddenly reminded of a certain Konoha's Green Beast. "I am a man in the springtime of his youth."

"What…"

"I have a son," Toru said as if that explained everything. Aomine stared at him flatly. "He's going to be five soon, and I'm already thirty. I have to keep up with the youth of today if I want to be able converse with the youth of tomorrow—namely, my son. Ah," Toru lamented, "F-M-L, I am aging too quickly."

"Talking like an idiot isn't going to stop yourself from aging," Aomine said under his breath before busying himself with removing Kise's vomit-slathered shirt.

"Although I guess FML isn't an appropriate thing to say around children?" Toru was muttering. "Tetsuya _is_ only four…"

Aomine's heart skipped a beat. His fingers froze on the last button of Kise's shirt.

"Who?" His voice cracked.

"Tetsuya?"

"His son," Officer Yu filled in as he came from another room of the house. "Sorry, Toru, Aomine's friend…"

He gave Toru a meaningful look, and all of a sudden, the man became somber. He smiled a little and reached out a hand. Aomine flinched. But all Toru did was ruffle Aomine's hair a bit and turn away with a clap of his hands.

"I'll get you all a cup of water… so, BRB."

"Did you tell him about me?" Aomine demanded as soon as Toru was out of earshot.

Officer Yu shrugged. "I did."

"Why? I don't even know that man."

"I have friends, too," Officer Yu said breezily. "Sometimes I see things I don't like seeing, and Toru often finds himself in my company when I am drunk off duty."

Aomine scoffed. "You get drunk?"

Officer Yu shrugged. "When it sounds like rain."

Aomine grumbled under his breath.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you," Officer Yu said when Toru had returned. "You're staying here for the night."

* * *

_"Is everyone alright? Nobody else is hurt?"_

_"Who cares—we're not the ones—Tetsu—"_

* * *

"Listen, I'm not staying in a stranger's house," Aomine said, borderline snarling. His ire was not due so much to the fact that Officer Yu was trying to pawn him off to some weird-ass father as it was to the fact that he did not want to remain in close proximity to Kise for longer than necessary.

"We're not even strangers!" Toru exclaimed. "And you have to stay to meet my cute son."

"I don't have to do anything," Aomine snapped. He turned to Officer Yu, unknowingly pleading with his eyes. "Take me home."

"Sorry, no can do. Car's running out of gas," Officer Yu said, humming.

"You just filled it up!"

"You imagined it," Officer Yu denied. "Which means you need sleep."

"ASAP," Toru agreed. "Now, look, there's a nice couch right next to your friend—"

"_He's not my friend,"_ Aomine snarled. In the silence, they could hear the first of the raindrops beginning to land on the rooftop.

"Sounds like rain," Officer Yu commented quietly.

* * *

_"You've gotta be lying."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"You're a policeman, right? Your job is to save people! So why didn't you save him?!"_

_"Calm down, please."_

_"It's your job!"_

_"Kagami Taiga, that is enough."_

_"Don't tell me what's enough, Akashi—"_

_"Officer Yu, was it? Could you give us a few moments?"_

* * *

"Here's a pillow, and here's a blanket. If you're cold, just holler and I'll be right down. The wife called and said there was an emergency in the hospital, so she'd be staying later, so if someone comes in when you're sleeping, don't freak out, just the wife."

"I don't know why I'm doing this…"

"Because you care about your friend!" Toru said brightly. "I think you and Tetsuya would be great friends."

Aomine winced. Toru smiled and ruffled his hair. Officer Yu tucked a hand into his pocket and checked his watch.

"I should get back to patrolling. Thanks for letting them stay."

"NP, man."

"Officer Yu," Aomine tried. "Can't you just take me with you?"

Officer Yu took the few steps to stand in front of Aomine and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I know it's raining now," he said quietly. "But you can't let it rain forever. Let the sun shine every once in a while."

"You sound like a sentimental freak," Aomine grumbled. He let his head turn enough so he could glance at Kise, who had since been changed into a clean t-shirt and shorts. _Let the sun shine…_

"I don't know what you think, Aomine," Officer Yu said. "It might be raining for you, but for that kid, Kise Ryouta…"

"I know," Aomine said with a sigh. "He's a whole lot worse off than I am."

* * *

_"It's my fault. I was standing right behind him. I was standing right behind him. It's my fault._

_"Stop, Ryouta. Speculating—"_

_"I was standing right behind him."_

_"Shut up already!"_

_"I pushed him."_

* * *

"Bastard," Aomine huffed, tugging the blankets up to his chin. He sent a death glare at the motionless lump on the other couch. Toru had retreated upstairs to the master bedroom to sleep—or maybe to gaze creepily upon his sleeping son; Aomine wouldn't put it past him—so it was just him and Kise downstairs. Raindrops were splattering against the windows, and there was just enough light from the street lamp outside to make them glow orange.

Knowing that it would just be him listening to himself, Aomine said aloud, "I haven't seen you in over a year, and this is what you've been up to? I know why you're doing this, you ass. But I'm not going to let you keep on doing it." He took a deep breath, and then he told Kise, who probably wasn't even listening, what he'd been telling himself for the past four years:

"Tetsu might be gone, but that doesn't mean we should go following after him."

He guessed Kise must have woken up at some point during his sappy speech, because he heard one choked sob before the rain took over and washed the sound away.

* * *

"Akashi-sama, you are still awake?"

The mahogany desk at which he sat seemed a little oversized for him, yet his presence was still commanding and put to rest any doubt that he was unfit for a position behind that desk. A large stack of papers sat to his left—_finished_—and a smaller pile was to his right—_unfinished_. His self-proclaimed butler, a raven-haired man dressed in a suit—as he greatly admired a certain 'one hell of a butler'—walked in holding a candelabra of three candles.

"Kenji," Akashi greeted. He took one look at the candles and closed his eyes. "The light is already on."

"Ah, yes," Kenji said, hastily putting the candles out. "I was just enjoying—I mean, the halls were dark—I mean, I didn't purposely turn the lights out for the sole purpose of being able to walk through a dark hallway with only candle lights to show the way—"

He stopped abruptly when Akashi held up a hand. More than amused, Akashi rested his chin in his palm and put down his pen.

"Did you need something?"

"Not at all," Kenji said. "I was just checking up on the young master."

"I am no longer so young."

"Nineteen is still young," Kenji said, and if he hadn't been holding that ridiculous candelabra in his hands, he would be poking his forefingers together.

"Kenji, I have already insisted that you do not call me 'young master' or anything of the sort. Addressing me simply as 'Akashi' will suffice."

A smile lit Kenji's features. "Akashi-sama has certainly changed over the years."

"No," he said quietly. "Rather, I have reverted back to how I was. How I should have been. Before it was too late."

There was no need for Kenji to reply. Akashi stood and walked to the window, hands folded behind his back. "It is raining again," he commented.

"As the young master dislikes the rain, I suggest you rest," Kenji said with a slight bow. "If you would allow this humble butler to lead you to your bedchamber by way of candlelight…"

With an amused expression, Akashi turned from the window.

"I still have work to do," Akashi said, not missing the way Kenji wilted in disappointment. "But I will rest soon. You are dismissed."

Kenji left with a bow, and Akashi settled down once more behind his mahogany desk. Kenji had taken it upon himself to decorate the room with an ancient, tall bookcase, paintings, and red velvet curtains. Akashi could not entirely disagree with this arrangement, because it did suit the mahogany desk he inherited from his father, although he did have to reject the 'young master' outfits Kenji had supplied him with once a month ever since he had been hired four years ago. It was that exact eccentricity that had gotten Kenji hired. And it was that eccentricity that kept Akashi sane in the empty mansion that belonged to his dying, cancer-ridden father.

Balancing a university degree and partial management of his father's company was no easy feat, but of course, it was well within the capabilities of a member of the Akashi household. Akashi had no objections, and he excelled in both areas. He was being hailed as Japan's youngest leader and was maintaining top of his class. He was lauded for his serene, sincere personality, cool, quick judgement, and stunning charisma. They credited his father for his excellent upbringing, but the one they should be applauding was a boy who could no longer be found anywhere on the face of the earth. The boy who, though was thought to be nothing but a shadow, changed Akashi for the better.

It was a shame that it took his death to foment that change.

Akashi sighed. The rain was heavy. The grandfather clock in the room—courtesy once more of Kenji—chimed quietly three times.

"Kenji," Akashi said aloud.

Kenji shot through the door. "You called?"

"I dismissed you."

"I—I wasn't waiting or anything—I mean, I was just concerned—I mean—"

A smile ghosted Akashi's lips. "Make an appointment with my lawyer later this week. I would like to discuss the details of this settlement," he said, laying a finger on the top of the shorter stack, "before making a decision."

"Does this mean I can serve the wonderful Shiroko Toru delightful delicacies from recipes of the Victorian era again?"

Akashi closed his eyes. "Yes."

"I will get right to it."

Now that his eyes were finally closed, he didn't feel like opening them again. The rain beat upon the windows. He could tell the lights had gone off and that Kenji was standing at his side, probably with that candelabra in his hand again.

"If the young master will sleep now, I will lead you," Kenji said, eagerly holding up the candles.

"I am tired."

Kenji nearly had a heart attack and almost dropped the candelabra, but at the last moment, he balanced himself and avoided a disaster. But here was another crisis. "W-What? Young master, are you d-d-d-ying—"

"No," Akashi said, finally opening his eyes. "Forget I said anything. Let's go."

Akashi's eyes glowed red and gold in the flickering light. The candle light was soft and warm and chased the rain away.

"Thank you for the candles," he said quietly.

It made the shadows live and dance across the walls.

* * *

_This is what I think:  
__Murasakibara's name:  
__Too long for haiku._

_I honestly have no idea how to write Murasakibara. If you've read Nineteen, you probably realized. So, it might be a while until he shows up. Like, oh yeah btw here's a sad Murasakibara what what jk he's gone now bye. _

_I also don't know how to write OCs. But it was inevitable that as they grew up they would meet different people. What'd you think? I tried._

_Thanks for the support. _


	4. blank stare

**IV: blank stare**

It was only ten in the morning and Midorima was already having a very bad day.

"I was supposed to be meeting a classmate here," Midorima said stiffly as the insufferable idiot in front of him waved and grinned goofily.

"It's been a while and that's all you have to say to an old friend?"

Midorima turned away and started walking past the tantalizing coffee beans. "We were never friends. I'm leaving."

"Nope. No you're not." And there was a vice-like grip on Midorima's wrist, which, to his dismay, no matter how he shook his arm he could not remove. With an irritable sigh, he adjusted his glasses indignantly and asked, "What do you want with me, Takao Kazunari."

"Recognition is the first step! Yay!" Takao released Midorima, whose eyes darted to the coffee shop's door. Retreat would be cowardly. Here he must stay.

"Damn," he huffed.

"What was that?"

"Hurry up. I have no time to waste for the likes of you."

Takao whistled and crossed his fingers behind his head. "That's really harsh. But I know you _really_ mean to say 'I've missed you, best friend!'"

Before Midorima could vomit, punch Takao in the face, or otherwise express his extreme displeasure of Takao making up such horrendous lies, Takao grabbed his arm and dragged him outside. With a cry of resentment, Midorima tried to block his head from the downpour of rain, but to no avail—within seconds, he was completely soaked.

"Isn't this fun?"

"Truly, it seems that you have only gotten stupider over the years," Midorima said. "Let go of me. I'm going to the library."

"Aw, that's no fun," Takao said. "Don't you see what I'm trying to do?"

Midorima glowered. "I'm not an idiot. Thinking that I am overworking myself, you are trying to get me to," he sniffed in a derogatory fashion, "stop and smell the roses."

Takao smiled and wiped his drenched hair out of his face. Midorima's eyes narrowed. That smile pissed him off. It was like the skin of the perfect peach, but when you bit into it, you found that every inch of it was rotten.

* * *

Meanwhile, Murasakibara was eating sweets.

* * *

"I will not allow you to hinder my progress," Midorima said. "Get out of my way."

"Let's make a bet. For old times' sake. Remember those days still?"

"No."

Takao held out his fist. "C'mon. Rock-paper-scissors. Loser, well, does the winner's bidding. How about it?"

"I'm not a child."

"Didn't say you were."

"_You_ are a child."

"Never denied it."

"Move," Midorima sighed.

* * *

Murasakibara was still eating sweets. Something across the street caught his attention.

"Oh?"

* * *

"I am going to get a restraining order against you."

"So do it."

"Don't try me."

"You won't."

"I will."

Takao burst into laughter. "Look at you! You could have left five minutes ago, but here you are, still bickering with me. Face it. You don't like the way you are right now. You're lonely."

Midorima looked stunned, but he quickly recovered. However, before he could make any action, a heavy hand settled on his shoulder. He turned and found himself staring at a chest. His gaze traveled up until it spotted the ends of purple hair, and before he could see any more, he shut his eyes quickly because today was already a very bad day, and he did _not_ want it to get any worse—

"Ah, I thought it was you. It's been a while, Mido-chin."

* * *

Murasakibara was still eating sweets when he accosted Midorima, who had been standing on the sidewalk opposite of the cake shop whose contents Murasakibara had been demolishing. Murasakibara wasn't exactly overjoyed at the sight of an old teammate, but it would be a lie to say that he wasn't a little bit happy upon seeing a teammate he thought might have withered away in some dusty old library. So, though it was pouring outside, he traipsed over, stuffing the rest of his cake into his mouth to protect it from the rain.

"It's been a while, Mido-chin," Murasakibara greeted when the cake was mostly gone. His eyes slid over to the raven-haired guy beside Midorima. "And… who are you again?"

"Takao Kazunari."

"Ah, right, I remember you," Murasakibara agreed absentmindedly. He turned his attention back to Midorima, who was as stiff as a dead bug. "I said hi."

Midorima responded by giving him a putrid glare. Murasakibara shrugged in return.

"Why aren't you guys inside?"

"He's giving me a little trouble. You should join forces with me and scold him."

"I don't think Mido-chin likes being scolded," Murasakibara said, peering at Midorima's face.

"Enough," Midorima said. "I'm leaving."

"Hey—"

"I said enough!" Midorima snapped. "It was bad enough being set up by Tanaka Tarou, but then you dragged me out into the rain, and then this _fool_ appeared—"

"Well, none of this would have happened if you didn't shut yourself out from everyone! All I'm really asking for is for you to stop blaming yourself—"

"Shut up," Midorima said, voice so cold that it seemed the temperature had dropped by several degrees. "You don't know anything about that."

"Yes, I do—"

Midorima cut him off. "And you're telling me that I am shutting people out? Takao, you haven't once called me the way you used to. If I were less elegant, I would tell you to fuck off. But I am not so crass. So, do not bother me again."

Midorima stomped off in the rainstorm.

"That little… he should have just said 'fuck off.' He hasn't changed in some ways," Takao mumbled.

* * *

"I haven't done something this stupid in a while," Takao commented airily as he jumped into the swing. He grimaced as he felt water seep through into his already soaked underwear. Murasakibara gave a little _hmm_ and draped himself into the adjacent swing.

"It feels gloomy," he said. "What did Mido-chin mean earlier?"

"What?"

"When he said you don't call him the way you used to?"

Uneasiness flashed across Takao's face; then, he laughed a bit. "Yeah, I guess I'm a hypocrite or something. But… Midorima," Takao pulled a face. "Feels so weird saying that. But… it's stupid, but somehow I couldn't call him 'Shin-chan.' Like… I mean, I didn't hate him in high school, and we weren't friends, but we weren't strangers either. And now…"

"Ah."

"You don't get it, do you," Takao chuckled.

Murasakibara shrugged. "Maybe. But, Mido-chin is still Mido-chin. He's gotten a little colder, but I think he's still pretty soft and squishy inside. Like cream puffs."

"Coated in cactus prickles."

"Is that tasty?"

Takao blinked.

"Well, regardless of what that would taste like," Murasakibara said. "It's annoying when people are as persistent as flies, but I guess Kuro-chin taught me that sometimes it's a good thing. So I guess keep at it and you might reach him."

Takao stared at Murasakibara.

"What?"

"No, it's just that…" Takao peered at Murasakibara curiously. "You're okay with saying his name? I thought that was like taboo or something. Whenever someone mentioned Kuroko in high school, Midorima would act like a boar with its tail chopped off."

Murasakibara shrugged. "Kuro-chin might be… gone, now, but that doesn't mean he never existed. After… he left, nobody ever spoke his name, and it was like we had thrust his existence into the shadows again. Mine-chin said we don't have the right to say his name, but I think he was running away. Trying to forget Kuro-chin was ever there." Murasakibara stuck out his lower lip in thought. "Well, maybe not entirely. He was trying to forget Kuro-chin so that it wouldn't hurt anymore, but at the same time, Kuro-chin was what drove him—what drove most of us to do what we are doing today."

Takao whistled. "I heard you were the most childish out of all the miracles… but look at you. Right now, it seems like you're the best adult. Well, I guess children are unpredictable… and some children can be mature. But," he said, cautiously treading the fence of curiosity, "When you say that tan guy said you all don't have the right to say Kuroko's name, what's that supposed to mean?"

Murasakibara looked at him for a while, hair plastered to his face courtesy of the rain. Finally, he turned his eyes up, beyond Takao, and looked on with a blank stare.

"Someone pushed him."

* * *

It was probably noon when Aomine finally opened his eyes but the grey haze was still grimly set upon the town. He blinked a couple times until he remembered where he was—in the house of that weird, probably pedophilic guy. His neck was surprisingly not sore, something he had become accustomed to after months of falling asleep on his own couch. Aomine rubbed a hand against the material—probably genuine leather. So was this guy rich?

Speaking of the devil, Shiroko Toru was tiptoeing over to the couches at that very moment. He threw Aomine a wink and mouthed _did you sleep well?_ The only answer Aomine gave was a drawn-out growl from his stomach.

"I gotchu," Toru said, whipping out a platter of sandwiches from behind his back. "And before you thank me, I gotta say it was NP."

"I'll thank you when you stop talking like a moron," Aomine grumbled, swiping a couple of sandwiches off the plate. He looked to his side and smiled grimly when he saw Kise still knocked out cold.

"Lazy son of a bi—" was all he got out before Toru shoved a sandwich into his mouth.

"Not around the kid."

"There is no kid. Oh wait, you mean yourself?"

Toru pulled a face and pointed to what Aomine guessed was the kitchen. He followed Toru there not because he was actually curious to see who the kid was but because he was damn hungry. There was a boy sitting on a high stool at the counter top, making a mess out of his own sandwich. Upon spotting Aomine, he broke into the brightest smile Aomine had ever seen and threw his hands up into the air.

"Good mornin'!" the kid cheered.

Aomine felt his knees go weak, and he had to catch the edge of the counter to keep himself from falling. Toru was telling his child _be quiet for the zombie over there_, but Aomine couldn't hear a word of it. The uncanny resemblance that child had to Kuroko—that disheveled hair, even though it was black, was exactly the same as Kuroko's when he got out of bed. But more than anything—those eyes were the exact same shape, the exact same shade, filled with life and mischievousness. The kid had gone quiet and was staring at Aomine; Aomine felt like his chest was being compressed; it was like Kuroko was staring straight at him—

"Aomine?" Toru prompted gently.

Aomine broke his gaze and shook his head. "Sorry. I… I should probably leave… stayed for too long…"

"Your friend isn't awake yet."

"Tell him I said—never mind," Aomine muttered. His mind was still reeling. "I need to—I can't stay here."

"Won't he be sad?"

Aomine froze, not even breathing at the sound of that child's voice. It pierced right through him, every word.

"I'd be sad," the kid said. "Really really really really really—"

"Sorry," Toru said. "He's a little energetic in the morning. Won't you stay?"

"I—" Aomine said helplessly, unwittingly casting a glance at the kid. His stomach flipped. The kid was making puppy dog eyes. With Kuroko's eyes.

Aomine crumbled.

"…I'll stay…" he mumbled. As the kid cheered, he resigned himself to a fate of misery.

Toru seemed to pride himself on his omelets, so while the pan was frying, Aomine tried to keep himself sane by entertaining himself with anything that was not the kid. The spoons. So shiny. The countertop. Nice granite. The cabinets—

"Much polish, right?" Toru said, noticing where Aomine was looking. Aomine groaned.

"Anything but doge…"

"Ojii-san doesn't like doggy?" the kid piped up. Aomine flinched.

"Uh… doggy and doge aren't the same…" he said flouderingly, realizing that doggy and doge were pronounced the exact same way. Oh god. The kid was staring at him again. Eyes wide, sparkling with mischief.

"Tetsuya, can you go try and wake up the blond kid on the couch?" Toru said. "Breakfast—should I say lunch? Brunch? Is ready. Pls."

Aomine choked on his water—_did he really just say 'pliss' instead of please—_and launched himself out of his seat. "I-I'll wake him up."

"Oh? Sudden change of heart?"

"Something like that," Aomine mumbled. The truth was that Kise would probably die from shock if he combined the sight of Kuroko's eyes with his probable hangover. Aomine kicked Kise in the stomach. The blond groaned and began moving.

"Why…"

"Wake up, asshole," Aomine snarled. "Your sorry ass doesn't deserve this treatment, but there's food waiting for you."

"Who…?"

Kise's eyes finally opened. Their eyes locked. Still the same gold Aomine remembered. But the fear—and was that shame?—that flickered across them was new.

"Aomine…?"

Aomine's head cocked involuntarily. After a few seconds of confused blinking, he coughed and turned away.

"Yeah. It's me. Your worst nightmare. Here to wake you up and drag you to eat."

"What… are you doing here? Why am I here? I was—"

Kise glanced at Aomine, then turned his gaze away.

"You were. You aren't anymore. And you won't ever again," Aomine said fiercely. Kise still wouldn't look at him. Aomine would have grabbed him by the front of his shirt, but he had no doubts that at any sign of violence, Toru would swoop down and beat him with the hot frying pan. So, he sighed and crouched down next to the couch and tried to meet Kise's gaze.

"You're not going to do this again," he said. "You hear me?"

Kise scoffed, eyes narrowing and nose crinkling, on the offensive. "You don't know anything about what I'm doing, Aomine."

Anger flickered in Aomine. He grabbed Kise's arm and twisted it around until the small, red dot was visible.

"You think I don't know what you're doing?"

For the first time, Kise looked scared, and Aomine knew that Kise had never wanted anyone to find out about that. But whatever expression Kise was making was quickly covered up by a model one. He jerked his arm out of Aomine's grip and made a movement like he wanted to pull his sleeve down, but he was in a t-shirt and gym shorts.

"Why…"

"I saw the rest of you, too, Kise," Aomine said heavily. He wondered if it was a side effect of getting old—or maybe he was just depressed, he didn't know—but his anger no longer was what it used to be. He wasn't mad—maybe disappointed was the word, but he simultaneously was not surprised at what Kise had done. He looked at Kise's face searchingly as the blond turned away, one hand gripping the opposite shoulder, the other wrapped around a knee, and all he saw was vulnerability under a facade of defiant strength.

"I'm not going to ask what happened to you or why you're doing what you are." _Because I already know_ he added silently. "But I'm going to ask you something. Are you happy?"

He expected Kise to flinch or maybe to dissolve into tears. But the blond turned on him with one of the blankest stares Aomine had ever received and said, "Do you think I deserve to be happy?"

Before Aomine could come up with a retort, Kise said, "Don't patronize me, Aomine. Don't act like you're any different. I'm fine the way I am. You do you, and I'll do me."

Aomine snarled and grabbed Kise's shirt. "Your way of doing you is killing yourself."

Kise stared down at him coldly. "Then so be it."

"You—!"

"Now, now, is this a fight?" a voice above asked sinisterly, and when Aomine looked up, sure enough, Toru was there wielding a still-steaming frying pan. "Let go of the kid, Aomine."

With a last scowl, Aomine shoved Kise away and stood.

"That's better, t-y. O-Oh, Tetsuya, you were there? D-Daddy wasn't about to use violence!"

Heart frozen over, Aomine snapped his vision to Kise, whose expression befitted one who was looking at a ghost. He didn't blame him. That kid was staring at Kise with Kuroko's gaze, the one that pierced through and saw everything.

"K-Kurokocchi…?"

Kise whisked the blanket up like he was trying to hide his marred body from the kid. He was breathing hard and fast, and Aomine could see tears coming to his eyes.

"Oh, fuck," Kise blurted out. Toru slapped his hands over the kid's ears. "Fuck, I'm—this isn't… I'm not… _Fuck._"

Aomine rested a hand on his shoulder, anger completely wiped out.

"You still think you're fine the way you are?" he asked quietly.

* * *

_asldkfjiweogh I am so bad at getting back to reviews, but many thanks, I read all of them (multiple times). Hopefully this chapter was better than last? _

_I think I'll be getting around to Bridged sometime soon for those of you who're still following that._

___Leave a review if it's not too much trouble, really means a lot :) _


	5. the weary clouds cracked

**V: the weary clouds cracked**

Two days after he set eyes on that kid who looked too much like Kuroko, Kagami woke from his sleep drenched in sweat. Disgustedly, he wiped his brow with a shaking hand, berating himself for being such a wuss. Nightmares that devolved him into a quivering mess? What a joke! Moreover, nightmares about something that had happened nearly five years ago…

"I'm such an IDIOT!" Kagami squawked, slam dunking his face into his pillow. While not the wisest choice he had made in his life, it also wasn't the worst. The impact made his head spin, but at least he hadn't done it against the wall…

With a jolt, he realized he was about to be late for his boring-as-hell job. He shot out of bed and brushed his teeth in record breaking time.

"Mornin,'" he mumbled as he slunk into the grocery store two minutes late. His boss sent him the stink eye, but he ignored it, taking his position at the farthest lane. He sighed. At this time of day, there were hardly any customers.

A magazine caught his eye—of course it was about basketball. He eagerly picked it up and flipped through the pages. A new pair of basketball shoes had been released—limited edition, super expensive, endorsed by some great basketball player who had reached heights Kagami would never reach—

He shook his head and put the magazine down. Just in time; a customer was approaching him.

"Good morning… did you find everything you needed?"

At lunchtime, Kagami took off his name pin and headed off for a bite to eat. He could have opted to buy an employee-discount priced lunch from the store, but he was sick of the place. The nearest restaurant was rather pricy but delicious to the extreme. He thought of his bank account, but brushed it off. A treat was always nice to have every once in a while. Even if that every once in a while was twice a day.

"Peh, who cares about money anyways," Kagami grumbled, finding himself sorely missing the pristine apartment his father had rented out for him back in high school. Well, losing it was the price he paid for deciding not to continue school…

Additional hunger grumbles accompanying his complaining grumbles filling his ears, he jogged to the restaurant. It was pleasantly empty, only a few customers since it was relatively early for lunch. He got himself a nice table in the corner and ordered his usual favorites—_ow, the money—_and folded his arms, leaning his head back to take a snooze while he waited. He heard the bell attached to the door ring a couple times, signaling the arrival of the hungry.

His nose twitched. It smelled kind of like steak. Ah, steak… he could almost feel the meat in between his teeth. He imagined a line of 4 kg steaks set before him on pristine plates, waiting to be devoured. The golden image that sent him into a giggling, drooling mess dissolved into one of the ordinary restaurant where he and his team had taken on the challenge of eating a 4kg steak, and suddenly he wasn't feeling so giddy anymore. It reminded him of how Kuroko wasn't able to eat even half and how Kagami eagerly took the rest from him (and the rest of the team). And that reminded him of how much fun they all used to have—how much fun they all used to have playing basketball and how much fun it had been playing basketball with Kuroko and how Kuroko couldn't play basketball anymore and how Kuroko couldn't do _anything_ anymore because he was _dead_, freaking _dead_, and—

"Your meal has arrived, sir," came the voice from above. "If you'd like to order anything else, please wave me over."

Appetite suddenly gone, Kagami stared dully at the two gourmet burgers, fries, and udon soup in front of him.

"Could I have a take-out box, please?" he said weakly before the waiter left. "I… ordered a little too much."

Thinking about the past sort of took the life out of him.

As the waiter retrieved a box, Kagami busied himself by folding his napkin until it was a square no bigger than his fingernail. He took a handful of fries for the sake of saving himself the pain of later eating cold fries. Hot fries were pretty damn good. He took a bite out of his burger and washed it down with the soup. By the time the waiter had returned, every dish had been licked clean, and Kagami sat there looking a little sheepish and still hungry and red-eyed.

"Did something get into your eyes, sir?" the waiter asked.

"No. Sorry for the trouble. Here's my card…"

The moment the waiter took his card, a cry of distress reached Kagami.

"Ah, I forgot my wallet! FML, what do I do?"

Kagami's ear twitched and involuntarily, he turned to the source of the despairing voice, because it sounded vaguely familiar. His eyebrows popped off his head. It was the father of the kid who looked too much like Kuroko. He was searching his pockets and patting himself all over desperately—_but really, why are you checking your socks, who would keep their wallet in their socks—_but to no avail. The man looked up; Kagami was still staring; and unfortunately, their eyes met.

Somehow, Kagami found himself begrudgingly paying for the man's meal as well. He cursed himself for being shamefully soft and squishy inside. He could feel his bank account withering.

"OMG, TYVM," the man was saying. "OMG, I cannot thank you enough, young man. Young, valiant, selfless man. Goodness, did anyone ever tell you your eyebrows are absolutely handsome?"

Kagami shuddered and regretted volunteering to help out this strange man.

"N-No, but thanks for the compliment. I'm done here, so… I'll be leaving first."

"Oh, no, no, no, I have to express my appreciation," the man was saying. "My name is Shiroko Toru, by the way. What's yours?"

"Kagami Taiga," Kagami muttered, desperately wishing for nothing more than for the freak of a father whose son looked too much like Kuroko to vanish himself away. "Listen, I should get back to work—"

"Oh! Now I remember why you look so familiar—and why your eyebrows are so dashing," the man called Toru said. "You're the cashier my son said had scissors for eyebrows, IIRC."

"IIRC?"

"If I recall correctly," Toru explained. He pumped a fist in the air. "I know something the youths of today do not!"

"N-No," Kagami said weakly. "I think you have the wrong person."

Toru held up a hand. "I may no longer be in my youth, but I still have faith in my memory. I have to pay you back. Why not have dinner at my house? I'm sure Tetsuya would be overjoyed to see you again."

"N-No," Kagami said faintly. "I don't think that's a good id—"

"Ah, the politeness of the youths of today!" Toru exclaimed. "Is this what's it's all about? Or is it politeness towards the elderly? If that's the case, I can't accept it! I, too, am a member of the youthful society!"

"N-No…" Kagami said, feeling very defeated.

"I'm sorry if I'm being overwhelming," Toru said apologetically. "I may have had too much coffee this morning. But as a result, I am feeling even more youthful than ever! Come, let us celebrate the wondrous powers of youth together! I insist that you visit my humble abode and join my family for dinner tonight as a form of repayment for rescuing me in my dire times of need."

_Jesus, calm down or something._

"O-Okay," Kagami said, his last resistance wobbling away.

"Totally rad!"

"What?"

"Is that no longer a thing?" Toru said, looking pensive. "Well, whatever. I'll pick you up along with my son—he's in preschool, did you know?" Toru said, looking like a proud peacock. To Kagami's eyes, he was off his rocker. The father of last week resembled nothing of the man who was bouncing on his heels in front of him. Kagami cleared his throat, thoroughly concerned for the man's son and simultaneously wishing that he knew how to vanish into thin air like those ninjas from that one manga he sometimes read.

"C-Can we do this another time," Kagami said weakly as a last ditch effort to escape from what was certainly going to be the most painful night he would ever experience.

Toru smiled at him and never before had Kagami ever hated smiles so much.

"No!"

* * *

Contrary to what Kagami believed, Toru was not the promptest of men. Judging from his 'youthful' pride, Kagami thought maybe Toru would be one of those people who would skid to a stop at the curb in a sleek car right on the dot and throw a thumbs up and an I'm-just-amazing-and-full-of-youth grin. But Toru arrived so late that Kagami was on the brink of believing that someone had answered his prayers and delivered him a ticket to escape.

"Damn it," he chanted hollowly as he found himself sitting beside the man who seemed to have calmed down from his coffee craze. "Damn it damn it damn it…"

"I've invited a couple other kids who seem to be about your age," Toru was saying when Kagami finally recovered from his puddle of self-pity. "I met them a few days ago, but the wife never got to meet them, so I invited them for dinner. The wife said she'd be home tonight, so she's making food!"

Kagami grunted and turned his attention to the view outside. The weary clouds were cracking, letting the sun push its way down to earth to dispel the gloom. The trees whizzed by and other cars greeted them with their blinkers and stop lights, and before he knew it, they were arriving at Kotoga preschool.

The playground was small and filled with even smaller kids who were all waiting for their parents to arrive and whisk them away. Kagami suddenly felt like his heart had turned into a basketball or something that was being dribbled by someone very inexperienced and who had a lot of anger to release. He wasn't ready for this.

"Brb," Toru said, and then he hopped out of the car.

Kagami was seized by the urge to turn the ignition on and drive away right then and there. Pros? He'd get a really nice car. Cons? He'd get a really nice car through theft and would probably be prosecuted. He could feel his eyeballs going bloodshot as his fingers inched towards the keys. Just climb into the seat… just turn the keys… step on the gas pedal…

"It's scissor-brow man!"

At the sound of the shriek of joy Kagami felt his butt freeze into his seat. He gulped. Squeezed his eyes shut. There it was again, his basketball of a heart pounding away.

"Scissor-brow man, hi!"

After two seconds, he felt a vicious jab in his side.

"My son said hi!"

"Hi," he ground out.

* * *

After possibly one of the most excruciatingly painful car rides he had ever had in his life (just below the one in which he told his father he was not continuing his education), they arrived at an averaged-sized home. While the house was average, the land plot was not. It seemed as if Toru had bought out an addition five plots of land —basically a forest in the backyard, a pool to the side, a miniature basketball court on the other side of the house. At this Kagami could not help but cast a glance at the small boy tugging on his father's pants. All he could see was blue eyes on the basketball court, streaking past him at the speed of light…

"Scissor-brow man is eating dinner with us tonight?" the boy asked. Kagami froze again. The boy was looking right at him.

"That's right, Tetsuya," Toru crooned. "What a smart boy."

In any other situation—with any other people, Kagami would have barfed.

The boy bounced over to Kagami and grabbed his hand. Kagami felt like he'd been plunged into a pool of ice. He wondered if suicide by drowning in the pool of a man he'd just met would be unacceptable. Probably.

The boy's hand was sticky, like he'd been sucking on it. The boy was grinning at him—_no, don't smile at me, I don't deserve it_—with a smile of gums and missing teeth and with eyes of blue.

"Scissor-brow man looks nervous, so I'll help you out!"

The boy tugged on Kagami's hand and, already weak at the knees, Kagami kneeled down.

"Daddy said not to bring it to school, but I did anyways," the boy said, plunging his hands into his backpack. After a miniature battle with the stubborn bag, he pulled out a blanket of the deepest red. "See?"

He trundled close and before Kagami could put up a weak protest, the boy clumsily tied the red blanket around Kagami's neck. When he hopped back, he grinned and said, "See? Now you're a superhero, and I'm your sidekick. And daddy's a—a civil—civily—civil-ant—Daddy, is that the word?"

"Civilian?"

"Yah!" the boy said, and he jumped back into his explanation without another hitch. "You're a superhero, and I'm your sidekick and daddy's a civilian who needs to go home. But I'm hurt, so I can only help you, so you gotta do all the work. Daddy's house is there, so you gotta lead the way! If you do this, you'll become the number one in Japan!" The boy held out his chubby hand. "Lead us?"

I'm your sidekick! (_I am a supporting actor, a shadow.)_

I can only help you._ (It will make the white of the light stand out.)_

You'll become the number one in Japan! _(I will make you, the light, the number one in Japan.)_

And while the boy, Tetsuya, beamed at him with a smile that would make sunflowers turn, Kagami looked at him with misty eyes. His voice betrayed him, cracking once as he said in a gruff voice:

"Nice words there. I'll do my best."

Kagami grabbed Tetsuya's outstretched hand and stood. That hand was so small, so warm, so full of life. And though Kagami was supposed to be the superhero and Tetsuya the sidekick, for all he knew it felt like Tetsuya was leading the way to the navy blue door that swung open on their arrival.

"You did it!" Tetsuya cheered. "Hi, mom!"

Kagami finally, finally smiled.

"We did it," he whispered.

"Rin, I'm home," Toru said, kissing the wife on her cheek. "And here's the kid I told you about."

"We're having an early dinner since Tetsuya likes to sleep early," she said, and her voice was soft like the wind, soft like Kuroko's used to be. "The other two boys are already here."

Tetsuya was still holding his hand, bouncing all over the walls as he led the way to the kitchen. Kagami halted so suddenly that the leading boy almost tripped.

When Rin said 'boys,' Kagami was expecting to meet children of Tetsuya's age at the dinner table.

But what he was met with was the sight of two very uncomfortable men—Aomine, who looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but here, and Kise, who looked like death.

* * *

_I have to say it  
Chapter titles are too hard  
I got a white hair_

_Thanks for the amazing feedback, reviewers, favoriters, followers (esp Kitahara Rosalie, cookiestalker012, Rika Tone, Inori-chan, Assasin8, jen, mariaelennaella, The Eternal Empress, booklover1209, and Cathtaku). One day I WILL reply to everyone. On that note, leave a review if it's not too much trouble? It really means a lot._

_Thanks and stay safe :)_


	6. torn between

**VI: torn between**

"Scissor-brow man, I will introduce you," Tetsuya said seriously, adopting the tone his father used when he was about to address something that entailed the 'youths of today.' "This is Goldilocks," he pointed at Kise, "And this is Potato man."

Kagami tried to pass his laugh off as a cough, but ended up choking on his spit. Aomine struggled between looking livid and mortified.

"Potato man?"

Toru sidled up to Kagami and said quietly, "He thinks Aomine-kun's skin is very much like that of a potato."

Kagami, still choking on his spit, gagged.

"Goldilocks, Potato man, this is Scissor-brow man!"

Kagami scowled at Aomine, who had found it to be his turn to smirk. Kagami closed and rolled his eyes, waiting for the ear-bursting laugh that was sure to come from Kise. _That's such a mean nick-name; I'm not a girl!_ Kise would say, or _Wow, the kid's got it right on the mark, Scissor-brow man!_ with a stupid grin on his face, and then Kagami would jump and _pummel_ him for insulting his honor and pride—

His eyes popped open. It was like Kise wasn't even alive, he was so still. Frowning, he questioned Aomine with a look, but Aomine only shifted a little helplessly and pointed at the seat next to him with his eyes as if to say_ oh god please save me from the zombie beside me._

Kagami caught Toru looking curiously between the three of them, and the older man coughed abruptly when he was spotted. "Well, now, Scissor-brow man," Toru said, smirking when Kagami glowered, "let's sit down so my cute son can start eating. You can sit next to Potato man."

"How did _you_ end up in this hell?" Aomine muttered as Kagami settled himself down into the adjacent chair.

"I could ask the same of you, 'Potato man,'" Kagami said with a snort. "And of…"

He used his chin to indicate the listless Kise.

"…It's a long story."

"I'm guessing you all know each other?" Toru commented as the wife led Tetsuya into a high chair. "Since you're talking and all."

Aomine shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, yeah… somehow."

"Small world… or maybe it's because of the technology of today? Connecting all the youths through the power of instant messaging and media… I would be lying if I said I wasn't jealous… If I, too, could be connected like that…"

Toru pulled out his phone, a suspicious air rising about him as he gazed longingly at the three of them.

"Not at the dinner table, Toru," Rin said, swiping the phone—_what an angel—_and unwittingly saving Kagami and Aomine a horrible fate of being messaged things like _omg how r u_ and _look my son isn't he soooooooooooooooooooo cute_ hourly. "Don't teach Tetsuya bad manners."

"I don't have bad manners!" Tetsuya chirped, banging his spoon on the table. "Daddy's a bad man!"

Kagami swore that the way the man instantaneously burst into tears was only possible with demonic powers and promised himself to stay far, far away from him.

* * *

As long as Kagami didn't look at the two people sitting beside him, he could say that dinner wasn't a complete fiasco. Tetsuya turned out to be horrible with a spoon, fork, or any kind of utensil and managed to fling a scoop of potatoes straight into Aomine's face. Kagami choked on his food while Aomine expressionlessly wiped the potatoes off his face. If Tetsuya had been Kuroko, Aomine no doubt would be digging his knuckles into his head right now—

Kagami coughed such that all the food dislodged itself from his throat and catapulted into Toru's plate, who exclaimed with a "WTF."

Bad, bad, _bad_, Kagami growled at himself. It was enough that the two boys shared the same names and eyes; they didn't need Kagami to go and associate them with each other…

Meanwhile, Tetsuya thought this was a mighty fun game and was trying with all his might to fling the food in his mouth into his father's plate. Toru looked torn between telling Tetsuya to _stop harassing daddy_ and cheering _you can do it!_ Luckily for him, the wife stuffed a ball of rice into Tetsuya's mouth and ordered him to chew while keeping his mouth closed.

"You three are welcome to stay the night," Rin said when dinner was finally over. "We have many extra bedrooms, and I'm sure that Tetsuya would enjoy the company. Toru is upstairs getting out extra blankets as we speak."

"I… I think I'm okay…" Kagami said weakly. Tetsuya turned on him with a look of deep betrayal.

"I thought we were friends…" he said, drooping so much that even his hair looked dejected. "I was even your sidekick…"

Kagami presented himself with two choices: punch self in stomach for making Tetsuya look like a kicked puppy or slap self in face for making Tetsuya look like a kicked puppy. He opted for a third, more discreet option, which was to stomp on his toes _very _hard.

"Potato man wants to leave, too? Goldilocks, too?"

Kagami heard Aomine gulping and inwardly snickered.

"Ah, well, see here," Aomine tried to placate the boy. "Tomorrow's Tuesday, and there's this thing called college. And I have to go to that."

"I have preschool!" Tetsuya volunteered. "But I still want to play with you guys!"

"Well… that…"

As Aomine struggled to come up with an excuse that wouldn't devolve into him having to inflict harm upon himself for causing Tetsuya to look like a kicked puppy, Kise suddenly stood from his seat on the stairs and headed to the door.

"I have to go. Bye."

A helpless glance thrown at Kagami, Aomine called out, "Wait, you—"

"Kise!" bellowed Toru from upstairs. "You shall not pass!"

But before he could rush down stairs, the front door was already closing. All they saw of Kise was his back as he walked down the driveway, hands in pockets. Kagami let out a breath of air and slumped into one of the leather couches nearby.

"What's _his_ problem?" he asked. Aomine seemed to be trying to hide his discomfort with a scowl and didn't answer him immediately.

"That kid is worrisome," Toru said as he descended the stairs. "TBH, if he were my son, I would lock him up in the house and hand-feed him every day until I was sure he was better. But then again, if he were my son and had ended up like that under my watch, I'd be committing seppuku right now…" Toru grabbed Tetsuya and stroked his hair lovingly, and Kagami was seized by the urge to barf yet again. "Don't worry, Tetsuya, Daddy will never let you get hurt."

Tetsuya floundered in Toru's arms and bopped him on the head until he was released.

"Wait, wait," Kagami said, holding up his hands. "How do you guys know each other in the first place?"

Aomine shrugged and told him the story of Saturday night, or to be exact, very early Sunday, when he ran into Kise. Kagami listened quietly, eyes absentmindedly following Tetsuya, who had tied a blanket around his neck and was racing around the room. After Toru had served them both brunch, Kise abruptly left, much the same way as he had just done, and Aomine had tried to follow after him without much avail.

"So you're telling me," he said slowly, feeling something hot rise in him, "that Kise—_that_ Kise Ryouta has turned into a club-loving alcoholic who also does _drugs?"_

"Seems like it," Aomine said coolly.

"Not an addict, though," Rin said. She had entered the room at some point during Aomine's recount. "I'm a doctor, so I can kind of tell. He's probably dabbling in this and that, but it's imperative that he stops, and soon. Tetsuya," she said in a softer tone. "It's time for bed."

"But I'm so _awake!_" Tetsuya protested as his mother scooped him up. "I'm so awake and so are Potato man and Scissor-brow man and are they staying, and why did Goldilocks leave, does that mean he doesn't like me?"

"He gets a little hyper after dinner, too," Toru informed them as Tetsuya was carried away. "Just FYI."

Aomine grunted.

"So how exactly did you get Kise to come here if he's gone all…" Kagami made some sweeping motions with his hands for lack of words.

"I asked the wife to pick him up on the way home from work," Toru said. "She said it wasn't an easy feat, but she's a master of Judo and has a way with words and the patience of a rock."

His expression suddenly turned serious as they heard Testuya wail from upstairs—_I DON'T WANNA TAKE A BATH!—_and he looked at them severely.

"I don't know what kind of relationship you guys have," he said. "And it's pure coincidence that I pulled together a group of boys who seem to know each other from the past. But whatever beef you have with each other is clearly a sign that at one point, all of you were close."

Kagami squirmed uncomfortably. "Well, that—"

Toru held up a finger, effectively silencing him. "I'm going to assume that all of you were friends. Don't give me that face. I know how bitter the rivalry of youths can be. But regardless of issues, friends stick up for each other and have each others' backs. And I'm asking you to do that right now."

"If you're asking us to help him," Kagami said slowly, "I don't think we can."

"Can or won't?" Toru pressed. Kagami looked away shiftily.

"It's not like… we're especially close. We weren't ever, really," Kagami said. In fact, between him and the Generation of Miracles, the only time they had ever even remotely acted as close as friends would was that day—that grey day when Kuroko died. He shuddered at the thought of it and closed his eyes tight. He could almost hear the rain again and the way they had all laughed in the coffee shop's shelter—the way even Akashi was smiling, the way Midorima turned away to hide his expression, the way Kise laughed so brightly it was like the sun bursting through the clouds.

"Listen, old man," Aomine sighed, ignoring the way Toru looked like an indignant peacock. "I tried talking to Kise yesterday. "I thought I could help him, maybe. I told him what he was doing was going to mess him up, and I could tell he knew, too. I told him he wasn't going to keep on doing those things anymore, but he just walked away. But the one thing I figured out about him was that he _can't_ stop."

"What happened to the youth of yesterday? That's not what you were saying when you went to wake him up. If I recall correctly, you were scolding him with the fire only youths carry in their voices."

"He doesn't want to be helped. He thinks what he's doing is—is some fucked up way to punish himself. And in my experience… if you don't want to be helped, there's nothing that can help you."

The rather hollow note Aomine's voice had adopted struck a chord with Kagami.

"Well, I am, regrettably, older than you and also, thankfully, a little wiser than the average youth of today," Toru said. "And sometimes you don't know you want to be helped until someone tells you."

Aomine bristled. "Old man, you don't know Kise."

"Then tell me about him," Toru challenged, his chin rising, and all the mischief Tetsuya's face carried manifested in Toru's. Aomine seemed to deflate.

"Well that would… that's something…" his mumble trailed off unintelligibly. Toru waited. Kagami's eyes dropped to the floor, and he half-wished he wasn't there because he knew exactly what Aomine was about to say.

With a frustrated gargle, Aomine tried again. "Look, your son… he's… he's a bit like… Officer Yu told you about—that day—your son is similar in a few aspects to…"

He struggled with the name. Kagami steeled himself and did it for him with the flattest voice he could muster.

"Our old teammate, Kuroko Tetsuya."

It was like a hand had ghosted over his heart; he felt so icy and stiff that he might well be a corpse. He hadn't said that name in almost five years, and hearing it hang in the air was like a—

_—punch to the gut. Kagami stumbled as if he had been actually hit, but all the physical pain in the world could not be compared to what he felt then. Because the pain he was feeling was in a different dimension, completely disconnected from the physical world. And there was no escape. No painkiller, no anesthesia. He could ask Aomine, who was grasping the wall for support, to knock him out, but when he woke up, the pain would still be there. He could ask Akashi, whose face was whiter than milk, to gouge his eyes out in hopes that physical pain would override emotional, but when he healed, the pain would reappear. That sickening hole in his heart that no amount of stitches would close had to be an illusion. This had to be a dream. These white walls were constricting him, he had to get out, out_, out—

_"You're a policeman, right? Your job is to save people! So why didn't you save him?!"_

_The man raised his hands, as if trying to put a barrier between himself and Aomine's grief-ridden rage. "Calm down, please."_

_Kagami's fists clenched. What a joke—what a joke—telling Aomine to calm down when Kuroko was dead. Telling him to calm down when Kuroko should have been saved! Telling him to calm down when—_

_"It's your job!" Kagami snarled._

_Someone wrenched Kagami from his spot. Furious, he whirled around, snarling. Akashi set his gaze on Kagami with eyes that should have belonged to a man in his twenties. _

_"Kagami Taiga, that is enough," he said quietly. _

_"Don't tell me what's enough, Akashi—"_

_But Akashi was already turning away, and suddenly, all Kagami could see was _Kuroko_ turning away from him, leaving for _good_—_

_"Officer Yu, was it? Could you give us a few moments?" Akashi was saying. Kagami grabbed his shoulder, and, startled, Akashi almost lost his balance. Realizing his mistake, Kagami fumbled for words._

_"You—I—"_

_Despair crossed Akashi's eyes as fleetingly as a running deer, but just as quickly, it was gone._

_"I…" Akashi said very quietly. "I am not Tetsuya."_

_And that's when Kagami started to run. A coward, he ran from the inevitable truth that was on the other side of the wall—Kuroko's body—_

"Point is," he heard Aomine saying, "Kise wouldn't be caught dead doing those things in front of—yeah. I asked Kise if he thought he needed help after he saw your kid. He said no. If your kid couldn't show him that he needed help, then… Kise's not going to change."

Toru was quiet for a while.

"Officer Yu and I have been friends for a good while," he said eventually. Aomine's expression contorted, torn between angry and confused at the way Toru had changed the topic. "We went to the same university—I was practicing law, and he was attending school so that he could graduate from the police academy more quickly. We didn't know each other back then, but once I got my degree, I was landed with a case regarding a murder to which he was witness. Since then, we've had many conversations and many of those talks revolve around his work.

"It was the day after a great rainstorm when he knocked on my door—that door," Toru said, pointing to the front entrance. "He walked in completely soaked, no umbrella—just his uniform and his cap. He was playing with it in that way he does when there's something on his mind. And then he asked me, 'What is my job, really?'

"It turns out that day he was unable to save a boy whose name was Kuroko Tetsuya. He had to inform the boy's parents and his friends, who were waiting in the hospital for news. And he said to me, 'Two of those kids were so angry they didn't even realize they were crying… and they were asking me questions that, for the life of me, I couldn't answer.'" Toru first looked Aomine in the eye and then Kagami. "I think you remember what you said to him."

Though Aomine clearly knew, judging from his expression, Toru went ahead and said it anyways.

"'You're a policeman. Your job is to save people. So why didn't you save him?'"

Aomine turned his face away, expression contorted. "Just—shut up—"

"Aomine, let us hypothesize that we are a year into the future. Kise has died due to drug overdose, alcohol poisoning, suicide, what have you. Let me say these words to you," Toru continued quietly but firmly. Kagami wanted him to stop. This was too much. He didn't have to say what was coming next—

"You're a policeman, Aomine. Your job is to save people. One year ago, you had the chance to save the boy called Kise Ryouta."

Aomine's face was screwed up, like he was trying hard not to listen, but every word was already in his head, screaming at him.

_"So why didn't you save him?"_

"That's enough," Kagami said roughly. "You didn't have to say that."

"Make it so that I won't have to say that. So that _nobody _will have to say that," Toru said. "Even if you weren't a policeman, Aomine… as a friend, don't you think you should help him? You, too, Kagami. Are you going to give up just because you're afraid of what's going to happen? Are you scared that even though you help, Kise will end up, one way or another, dead? Inaction can be a crime, too."

"I know, I _know_!" Aomine snapped. "Don't treat us like children. 'You can't change things if you don't do anything, but you can change something if you take action.' I know already. I get it. So, just—stop."

Toru shrugged. "Enough old man talk. I feel grey hairs sprouting already. Tetsuya! Daddy's coming to give you a goodnight kiss! I'm OMW!"

As Toru practically skipped upstairs, Kagami let out another breath. Aomine was quiet, looking conflicted.

"I know…" Kagami said tentatively. Aomien flinched. "And it's not my place to say it either, since… I wasn't going to do anything about Kise either. And I'm not patronizing you or anything, but—"

"Get to the point," Aomine said harshly.

Kagami took a deep breath.

"I know that back then… you said we didn't have a right to say his name… and probably not even talk about him, but I think we both know that if… he were here, he wouldn't give up on Kise."

"I know," Aomine groaned. "But it's just that… if I—we—try to help Kise, then it'll be like facing his death all over again… because… I don't know about the rest of them, but I know that Kise and I haven't gotten over it. And that's Kise's problem. That's what I—we—have to work with. And, as much as I hate it… that old man is right. I'm afraid of what's going to happen. I'm afraid of what I'm going to feel. And I'm afraid that Kise's gonna just fuck himself over despite whatever I do."

"Well…"

As Aomine brooded, Kagami spotted something on the floor, and suddenly he was struck by an idea. He got up from the couch and scooped up the deep red blanket, and slowly, a grin started creeping onto his face.

Aomine looked up and made a face.

"The hell are you doing tying that blanket around your neck? What are you? Five?"

"Nah," Kagami said, flapping his makeshift cape. And as stupid as he felt for saying it, he said it:

"I'm a god damn superhero."

* * *

_Writing end was hard  
__Much awkward, much confusion  
__Author's brain is blown._

_Hahaha a reviewer told me 'don't take two years to write the next part' …_

_HOW DID YOU KNOW_

_A long time ago I wrote a fic for KHR and took two years to put up the final chapter…_

_Anyways, as always, thank you for the support. Especially reviews. Speaking of which, if it's not too much trouble… leave a review? Something felt off about this chapter, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what it was._

_Strength and hope to the people affected by the recent events in California. Stay safe. _


	7. air after rain

**VII: air after rain**

"Umaibo… or pocky… umaibo… pocky…"

With a frustrated grunt, Murasakibara just about grabbed the two shelves of snacks and shoved them into the cart, but with great willpower, he restrained himself. Akashi had just _told_ him to go on a diet, and so on a diet he would go. Why he was still following his ex-captain's orders, he didn't know.

Murasakibara had never been one to watch his weight or even care about it at all. Eating snacks was his specialty. He was a snacks connoisseur. There was no one like him in the rest of the world.

He supposed what with his slowed metabolism and lack of exercise (he never really did get around to playing basketball again after Kuroko died), he _was _getting a little pudgy. But really, a little pudge on a giant? It hardly made a difference. No one could discern anything through his loose clothes anyway.

No one but Akashi.

_"You… Atsushi, why don't you consider losing a little weight?"_

Or maybe it _was _a little obvious. Murasakibara caught a glimpse of himself in one of the mirrors hanging in the convenience store. Was it obvious?

"This is too troublesome," he grumbled, and he swiped both the umaibo and the pocky from their stands and headed to the cash register. He dumped a basketful of snacks on the counter. The cashier squeaked and hurriedly rang each of the items, shoved them at Murasakibara and cowered away.

As he looked upon the two meager bags of snacks, he couldn't help but let out a depressed breath of air. He was so _hungry,_ and the bags were so _small._ Akashi didn't understand the needs of a giant. As he mulled over the injustice of the world, Murasakibara failed to watch where he was going—and an equally distracted man was doing the same, typing furiously away on his cellphone and failing to notice the giant looming ahead and…

"Ouch!"

"Oof!"

"Oh…" Murasakibara said, peering at the fallen man. "Takao?"

Takao looked up, his scowl quickly dissolving into a grin. "Hey! If it isn't Murasakibara. But for a former basketball player, that sure was a squishy impact…"

Takao stood up, a suspicious look in his eyes as he circled Murasakibara.

"This is…"

As quick as a mouse, Takao jabbed a finger into Murasakibara's side and jumped away.

"Have you… gained some weight? I didn't notice last time because it was raining so hard… but that was…" Takao said, trying to choose his words carefully, "A little… bouncy…?"

The look in Murasakibara's eyes told Takao that he had not picked his words wisely.

"I-I mean, it was muscular! Because there was so much muscle, it was bouncy!" Takao amended frantically. "Really!"

The murderous glare in Murasakibara's eyes withered away, and the giant sighed.

"Whatever. I know. I've gotten fat."

"N-not fat," Takao said. "Just…"

"Fat."

Wanting to agree but wishing to keep his life, Takao hummed a little. His eyes swept over Murasakibara, noticing the way his shirts didn't fit _quite_ the way he remembered they did and how his face was no longer long and oval shaped, but a little rounder. Murasakibara had always been a large person, but that size had always been attributed to his muscle and height.

"That's… a lot of snacks," Takao commented, trying to convey a sense of nonchalance. "Have you… is that a normal… is that what you usually—"

"Yes, and stop trying to be polite, it's making me angry," Murasakibara said. He took a second glance at the bags in his hands. "Well… it's about half of what I usually eat."

"If I remember correctly, what you have there looks about twice as much as you used to eat in high school," Takao said cautiously.

Murasakibara shrugged. "So what? I eat more now."

Takao regarded Murasakibara through shrewd eyes as he popped open a bag and devoured its contents.

"Are you… alright?"

Murasakibara turned and gave Takao a _look_.

"W-Well," Takao blabbered nervously, "In case you're wondering why I'm here, I asked Tanaka Tarou, Midorima's roommate, to set me up with Midorima." Upon this, Takao burst into a scowl. "He said he told Midorima, but I guess that sneaky frog-haired bastard knows something's up, and he's not showing."

"You're still trying to talk to him?" Murasakibara said.

"Yes," Takao said. "Why wouldn't I?"

Murasakibara shrugged. "Maybe you should give up. It seems troublesome."

"What…" Takao said, blinking. "That's like the opposite of what you told me a few days ago."

"Is it…" Murasakibara mused. "I don't remember. But Mido-chin is Mido-chin, and he's stubborn, so you may was well waste your time on something else."

Takao grabbed Murasakibara's arm and tugged.

"Are you… really okay? No, no, don't give me that scary look again," Takao said hastily. "You seem… oddly different."

Murasakibara shrugged again.

Takao's eyes flickered to the snacks bag.

"Murasakibara… are you…" Takao caught his tongue, eyebrows knitting together. "…Never mind. You know what? Let's eat something. What do you want to eat?"

"What's with this…" Murasakibara said suspiciously.

"No, no," Takao said. "I just… well, I mean, you stayed out in the rain for me last time, so I want to repay you. So what do you say? What do you want?"

Murasakibara stared at Takao, trying to figure out what was behind this strange offering before shrugging and deciding it wasn't worth thinking about.

He felt rather heavy today… not physically, but it was like something was weighing on his chest. He looked up, as if the action itself would lift his spirits. The skies overhead were cloudy, laced with the slightest tinge of orange as the sun began its descent. It seemed as if rain would soon come again. It was regrettable that with the rain came memories of that day five years ago. The air after rain was so sweet and fresh…

He realized rather belatedly that Takao was still looking up at him, waiting for an answer.

"Cake," was all he said, and they were off.

* * *

"Akashi-sama, who was that person back there at the intersection?"

Akashi slipped his hand between the elevator doors before it could take off and neatly stepped inside. Kenji hurried after him, trying to yank Akashi's bag off his shoulder, but to no avail.

"Kenji, I have told you numerous times that I am quite capable of carrying this myself," Akashi said, amusement stringing his voice.

"Ah, but the young master should not have to…"

Akashi shook his head imperceptibly. "An answer to your question… Murasakibara Atsushi. A former teammate."

"Ah, back when you were in high school?"

"No," Akashi said. "Middle school."

"Ah, very good," Kenji said distractedly as the elevator doors opened. "If you will excuse me, I must get the food ready for Shiroko…"

Akashi nodded, musing over the way two men who lived mentally in very different time periods could get along so well. He headed over to his office, inclining his head to his subordinates as they scurried past him with curious, evaluative looks as if they still couldn't believe that someone so young was commanding over them.

Akashi opened the door quietly and slipped inside, evading the attention of Shiroko Toru, whose entire upper body was stuck outside the window. Akashi coughed quietly, and Toru jumped, hit his back on the top of the window, and would have fallen out of the sixteenth floor window had Akashi not grabbed him by the tie (which was conveniently hanging over his shoulder) and wrenched him back to safety.

"OH-mg, t-y, t-y," Toru said breathlessly, desperately clawing at the tie choking him. "You have my undying gratitude omfg."

Akashi seemed amused.

"This happens every time… I would think you would learn from it, Lawyer Shiroko."

Finally loosening the tie, Toru gasped out, "It makes me feel youthful… what's that saying the young ones are always preaching… yolo?"

Akashi set his bag down on his desk. Kenji had never doubted his decision to hire the lawyer, but the others in his corporation were always shooting Toru the strangest, most hostile of glares. _Why is this doof serving lawyer for our company?_ they always seemed to be asking. _It goes to show how competent Akashi really is. _

Though it was true that Toru was a complete outlier in the population, Akashi was drawn in by his genuine actions. Here was a man championing his pride in his youth with no shame at all, but when it came to his work it was like a switch was flipped: He seemed to channel his youthful gallantries one hundred percent into evaluating deals and winning his cases.

The faintest of smiles tugged at Akashi's lips. He closed his eyes and said, "I heard something along the lines of YODO from Kenji when he came back from his bungee jumping expedition."

"YODO?"

"'You Only Die Once,'" Akashi elaborated concisely, and there was a curve to his smile that made Toru shiver. "He said it was what his guide told him while he was preparing himself for the jump."

"Ah… bungee jumping… the sport for the youthful," Toru murmured as he settled down into one of the chairs. "I've made it my lifelong dream to take myself and Tetsuya bungee jumping one day. The ultimate youthful activity shared between father and son! The bonds we will forge through facing death itself! Our lives will never be the same afterwards… Of course I will also take the wife… she always did love the thrill and excitement of skirting around death…"

"How is… your son?" Akashi asked.

"Tetsuya? He's beautiful. Though, Akashi," Toru said, turning a shrewd eye on the other man, "Even while you're always asking about him, you perpetually refuse my invitations to see him."

"I prefer to keep a strictly business relationship."

"Asking after my son is not considered business," Toru said gently.

"Enough of this, then," Akashi said, pulling out a binder-clipped stack of papers. "Regarding—"

"Before we get to real business," Toru interrupted. Akashi's eyes flashed, but Toru leaned back in his chair nonchalantly, folding his hands behind his neck.

Ah, here was the other aspect Akashi liked about the man—he harbored no genuine fear towards Akashi at all. Despite how much it irked the _other_ side of him, Akashi had to admit he had met few who were able to treat him essentially as an equal. Many looked down on him, treating him with contempt; many cowered before him, revering him to his face and muttering behind his back. But Toru…

The man was currently rocking back and forth in his chair. "I met a few boys about your age some days ago. They were… strangely intriguing."

"Did you?"

"They all had the same reaction towards my cute Tetsuya as you did the one time you saw him. Now, I know Tetsuya is a very special boy, but to garner such astonishment… I am led to the conclusion that you boys all know each other, or have known each other in the past."

Akashi said nothing.

"I know that it may be that it is none of my business," Toru said, "but people say 'a little bird told me' all the time regarding things they should not butt into, and I thought I would sing the tune of a little bird today."

With all the nonchalance in the world, Toru said, "The boy with the golden hair is going to kill himself."

Expressionless, Akashi remained silent, and Toru unclasped his hands from behind his neck and took the papers on the desk.

Perhaps above all, what irritated and impressed him the most about Toru was the way he would poke his nose into anyone and everyone's business like a father constantly flitting behind street poles and bushes to keep an eye on his child.

"Now, back to real business… I looked into this company that wants to merge with you, and I assume you already know… but they only wish to merge because they are on the verge of bankruptcy…"

* * *

"I warned you you couldn't keep this up forever."

"Shut up," Midorima commanded his roommate, although it sounded more like a dying dog's feeble attempt to bark. He wanted out of his bed, but he could barely even wiggle his toes.

"Only idiots get colds in the summer, was it?"

Midorima huffed. "The only idiot here is you, Tanaka Tarou. It's spring."

Tanaka Tarou clicked his tongue and smushed a wet towel on Midorima's forehead with more force than necessary. Midorima tried to growl but all he could produce was a wet cough.

"This is all that idiot's fault…" he said venomously. "Which is also_ your_ fault."

He broke out into a coughing fit and muttered heinous curses while Tanaka Tarou snickered at him.

"Making me stand in the rain… stealing my umbrella, my lucky item…"

"You left it there," Tanaka Tarou admonished. "Which says a lot about this Takao kid. You, _the_ Midorima Shintarou aka the Oha-Asa addict, forgetting your lucky item after a fated encounter!"

"It wasn't a fated encounter!" Midorima snapped. "It was a set up, and you know it because _you_ caused it."

And before Tanaka Tarou could utter another word from that stupid mouth of his, Midorima hoisted the covers up over his head and disappeared from the world.

* * *

His destination was a club, one of the dirtiest you could find on campus. It didn't care about age or what you smoked or drank or injected; it didn't care who you were. Nobody cared who you were, because everyone was drunk as hell. The dance floor was a mish mash of sweaty bodies grinding against each other in a frenzied high, hands finding places they normally couldn't reach, unconcerned with sex, gender, race, background—because they were all college students desperate for something else. Nobody cared who you were so long as you could bring them pleasure or distraction.

Nobody in there cared that he was Kise Ryouta. And most importantly, nobody cared that he, Kise, might have killed his best friend.

The night was still early, but it was already a mess inside, even at the entrance doors, which a couple seemed to have deemed an adequate, private room. He ignored it, as he was accustomed to do. They didn't care, so why should he?

Christ, all he wanted was a distraction from those damned blue eyes he'd seen earlier. He found a stray glass of alcohol on top of a table and downed it without a second thought. It seared through his throat.

_Stop thinking about it already. It's been five years._

Someone offered him a drink. The hand clenched around the sweating glass was slightly tanned; on the wrist sat a silver watch; the skin stopped at a sleeve, appeared again at the neck. There was an unshaven shadow around the jawline and—

For a split second, Kise saw blue eyes, looking at him peevishly as if asking _what are you doing, Kise?_ But when he blinked and looked again, it was only a gaze belonging to a stranger he'd never seen and who he'd probably never see again.

_Forget about it._

The music rolled through the room, thrumming through the writhing bodies. The hand was still there, still offering the drink.

_Here's your chance. Maybe after this, you'll forget everything._

With a smile he'd cultivated through his modeling years, Kise kept one hand on the other's arm and accepted the drink. His hand slipped up to the shoulder and, after he finished the drink—_burning, bad taste—_he set it down and put the free hand on the other's waist. Things were beginning to become blurred around the edges, and a buzz was creeping into his mind.

He was seeing blue eyes again, looking at him expressionlessly yet admonishingly.

"You're not supposed to be here," Kise mumbled. He was being led away, but somehow, blue eyes were still following him. Numbly, he recognized the presence of another person; he turned to the warmth and clashed with it heavily. Dimly, he thought that he must have been handed a spiked drink, but it was too late now—and not that he particularly cared anyways—

"Kise!"

—this happened all the time, yet he couldn't help but feel something roiling in his stomach at the feeling of someone else's hands on his skin—when had his shirt been unbuttoned?

"_Kise!_"

He thought someone had grabbed his arm, but he couldn't really be sure. His brain seemed to crash against his skull; someone was jerking him roughly away from the warmth he'd been wrapped in.

"You _drugged_ him?!" he heard someone roar. "You drugged _him_!? You little—"

From the screams, Kise judged that someone had just gotten punched, and hard. Vision hazy, he couldn't make out what was going on; all he knew was that he was being forced to stumble out of the club. His limbs were like jello, wobbly and weak; he was surprised he was even standing still.

"Come on, you asshole, we're getting you out of here," said a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. A hand grabbed his arm and started dragging him. What an odd sensation—it felt like he were a balloon being carried along by its string. "Kagami! Leave the guy alone, we're leaving."

"But he _drugged_ him—aren't you—shouldn't you arrest him or something!?"

Kise stopped moving as his support halted. "Huh. Good point. I'll call Officer Yu and let him know what's up. Take Kise, will you?"

Kise was being lifted up; his arms were slung over someone's shoulders, and his legs were supported by a pair of hands. It was comfortable this way; he was so tired; not having to stand was so relieving. He could barely muster the energy to let out a sigh; he used the last of it to bury his face into the crook of his carrier's neck.

"Jesus, he's like a puppy or something… worse than I thought."

"I told you. I called Officer Yu; he said he'd be over in a bit. Should we wait? Or do we leave?"

"Uh…"

"And where would we go?"

"I don't know… back to Shiroko's…?"

"Do you think Kise'd want the kid to see him like this…"

The music was fading. The air was sweet with the night's scent, the kind that followed the footsteps of a heavy rain. The cool breeze licked Kise's skin, taking the heat away; he shuddered once, went limp again.

"The kid's probably asleep by now. But, man, Kise's really hot. A-As in warm! Warm hot!"

"Did I even say anything… wait—are you still wearing that goddamn blanket?"

"Oh, shit…"

"Idiot."

"Shut up! Make yourself useful and call a cab or something. Let's go to your place."

"Mine? Why? Take him back to his dorm!"

"…do _you_ know where he lives?"

"… No… let's go to yours, then!"

"No!"

"Why not?!"

"Because!"

"That's a kindergartener's answer!"

"You're a kindergartener!"

Kise's support jostled angrily. In protest, he groaned and raised his head an inch from its perch.

"Hey, he's moving."

"No shit!"

His eyes opened the slightest crack. There was a face peering at him, covered all in shadows cast by the street light overhead. Kise blinked sleepily; he broke out into a smile that was reminiscent of wilting daffodils.

"Blue eyes…" he mumbled, head dropping. He sighed quietly, breath mingling with the sweet night air. "But not Kurokocchi's…"

The others were silent. The wind picked up again, and he vaguely thought he could hear the sound of rustling leaves. It reminded him of raindrops… it would be nice if it rained again… the night air was so sweet…

* * *

___And in the end, Kise could not forget about it :\_

_Lunch _

_Sushi was not good  
And dreadfully overpriced  
Mourn for my money_

_QUESTION: does anyone know when the winter cup started? As in what date… even the month would be helpful. Otherwise, I shall decide on my own._

_Anyways, a few random notes explaining some things in the story that I probably should have said a long time ago…_

_*Unless explicitly stated (like 'two days later' or 'today is Wednesday') it is safe to assume that I am skipping around time in the same day. So, it's Tuesday right now. On Tuesday: Murasakibara met Akashi & Takao. Kagami paid for Toru's lunch and unwittingly doomed himself to a miserable fate of being Toru's youthful friend. After lunch, Akashi met Toru. Toru picked Kagami up. Kagami, Kise, Aomine had dinner at the Shiroko household. Kise went to a club to wash away whatever he was feeling that night. Kagami and Aomine tracked him down. Sorry if it's convoluted :P_

_*I think I read somewhere (might have been Durarara, but seriously it's been so long since I've read/watched that that I can't be sure) once that the name Tanaka Tarou is one of the most common/average names in Japan, which is why Midorima said in chapter something 'while you may be as average as your name, I am not [average].'_

_*I want Toru to come off as a guy with two sides to him, one that loves having fun and the other that is seriously concerned with helping people, which is why he is seemingly bipolar lol._

_*& finally, if anyone ever needs explanations of what some of the acronyms Toru uses are, just let me know, and I will be more than happy to provide. Goodness knows that I've had to look up enough over the years._

_Sorry for the wait; I've been playing too much League of Legends. *eyeballs pop out of head. Have a nice day!_


	8. laced with dewdrops

**VIII: laced with dewdrops**

Shiroko Toru finished his business with Akashi just in time to pick Tetsuya up from preschool. Normally Toru would not have this sort of time; he was always so busy with this and that and the problems between the elderly and the youths that he often came home very late, leaving his poor Tetsuya at home for hours on end and how pitiful that boy was yet how brave; how _could_ Toru leave his beautiful son at home like that all by himself (albeit with a trustworthy babysitter (but even so that babysitter had to leave a full hour or two before either Toru or Rin would arrive home)) where he could be kidnapped and drugged and sold—

"I am the worst father!" Toru mourned, and he thereby resolved to be a better father by showering his son with even more love than before. And he shoved his keys into the car and started the engine. No time to dilly dally; youth did not wait forever! Besides, he had to pick up that kind, valiant, brave, selfless boy called Kagami Taiga to bring him (forcefully) home to dinner.

"Oh my, Shiroko-san, it's a surprise to see you here!"

"Yes, yes, IK, IK," Toru said; the teacher's words were like icy knives stabbing into his heart, a reminder of how he didn't spend enough time with Tetsuya. "How has my cute son been?"

The teacher raised a hand to her mouth and chuckled. "As well as a four year old can be. He's friends with everyone; it's impossible to dislike the child. He's also quite intelligent for his age. I'm sure that when he enters grade school he'll have no problems at all."

"As expected of my son," Toru said, tears pricking at his eyes with pride. "Taking after his mother and father so well! He will emerge from his youth as a victorious flower!"

The teacher smiled cluelessly as if she wasn't really sure how to deal with the man.

"Kiyoshi is also here. I don't think he knew you were going to pick Tetsuya up today, so he came early and is playing with the children."

"Ah, excellent! It's been a while since I've seen him." Tour skipped to his son's classroom and peered in through the window on tiptoes. "He still looks the same as ever, heh. But, ah! That Teppei, manhandling my cute son…"

With an extravagant gesture, Toru burst through the door and struck a pose. "Tetsuya! Daddy's here to save you!"

Tetsuya wiggled his arms. "Wow! It's daddy! But dad, Bearman is here, so you can go."

Toru stumbled and fell to his knees like he'd been just shot through the heart and blood and the very essence of his youth were seeping through his grievous wound.

"My son… doesn't need me…"

"Shiroko-san, long time no see!" Kiyoshi said cheerfully. Tetsuya ran into his arms and clung to his neck like a monkey, grinning. Toru could feel himself turning into stone. Is this what they meant when they said birds of a feather flock together? The youthful would flock with the youths? Was he not youthful enough?!

Oblivious to Toru's abrupt predicament, Kiyoshi said, "I'm not sure who this bear is, but I'm pretty sure Tetsuya didn't mean he doesn't need you anymore! C'mon, this behavior isn't very fitting for a man full of youth!"

_I am youthful!_ Toru rebounded and sat up properly. "This is the truth. Teppei, it's been a while. How you been, my man?"

Kiyoshi grinned and ruffled Tetsuya's hair. "I've been pretty okay. School's tough and all, but other than that…"

Toru cast a heart-wringing gaze at his stolen son before shaking his head. "Ah, school… the time when youth truly is put to the test. But, Kiyoshi, your education is important. I will not allow you to jeopardize it. If you are ever too busy, you don't need to pick up Tetsuya every day… And if you are busy now, please just feel very, very free to hand my son back over to me…"

"It's alright. I mean, looking after Tetsuya a few hours a day is the least I can do to repay you."

"I don't need repayment," Toru said, a little more somber than usual. "Settling the case for your family was my job."

Kiyoshi shrugged and put his hands in Tetsuya's black hair, sort of brushing it and tangling it up at the same time. Tetsuya screwed up his face, mouth curving into an upside-down 'U' at the treatment.

"You brought my grandmother and me a peace that money can't buy, so I feel a little indebted," Kiyoshi said lightly. "And besides, it's not interfering with school at all. Tetsuya's a good sport, aren't you?"

"I am!" Tetsuya said. He bounced from Kiyoshi's lap and ran to his father, who looked delighted at this change of pace. "Daddy, let's all go to the cake shop, can we? Can we? Can we?"

"We're going to have dinner soon," Toru said without conviction. His son gave him the puppy-eyed look, and he buckled gloriously. "But I guess a little bit won't hurt."

"You're spoiling your son, Shiroko-san," Kiyoshi said, not a single hint of admonishment in his voice.

"And spoiling you, too, if you have the time for it. Come with us, Teppei. And I've told you many times, call me Toru. It makes me feel… ah, how do I put it," he said, touching his forehead daintily with his fingers. "_Youthful."_

Kiyoshi just grinned and then snatched Tetsuya away from Toru, tossing him into the air. "High and high we go!"

* * *

Toru fancied Kiyoshi as his second son—he fancied _many _people as his second son (of course, Toru would always be THE son), but Kiyoshi was special. The man radiated the type innocence and cheer that only a True Youth could, and Toru secretly fantasized that of _course_ father and son would share the same Youth Gene. And Kiyoshi was kind, so disarmingly kind that one would never notice the calculating gaze beneath the friendly gleam in his eye. But he wasn't malicious about it; no, Toru would never let his beautiful, joyous son close to anyone who might mean harm. Rather than an angry, hungry bear woken from its hibernation, Kiyoshi was more like a perpetually befuddled, cuddly bear who bumbled his way through the day.

Tetusya was in the process of convincing this gullible man that monkeys actually have _five legs_ and the fifth was actually its _tail, _which could extend to the size of a dinosaur and crush buildings, but since Kiyoshi was a superhero, nobody had anything to fear because they all knew that bears were _way_ stronger than five-legged monkeys that could fly through the air and wasn't that _so cool_ it was _so cool_ Kiyoshi was _so cool._

"Daddy's cool, too!" Toru clamored from the steering wheel.

"Daddy _is_ cool, but he's just a civilian," said Tetsuya coolly.

Toru wept.

Glory to the creator of the automobile, who cut the torturous ride short for Toru. With all the vigor in the world, he ushered the two out of the car and into the shop, where Tetsuya's attention was immediately snagged by the cakes on display. A sigh of relief escaped Toru's lips; no longer did he have to listen to Tetsuya laud the newfound Rival for his Son's Love.

"You look jealous, Shiroko-san," Kiyoshi commented.

Toru puffed out his cheeks childishly. "I won't lose to you. Ah, I can feel the bitterness of youthful rivalry coursing through my veins already…"

"Daddy!"

And instantly, the war-bound Toru melted into a cooing pigeon as he rushed to Tetsuya's side.

"Yes, my pride and joy? Ah, yes, excuse me! Three slices of this, pls."

Kiyoshi barely blinked at the 'pliss' that Toru said, already quite accustomed to (and pretty much oblivious to) the man's youthful antics. With a grin on his face, he scooped Tetsuya up in his arms and lifted him into the air. Tetsuya giggled, and just for a moment, by looking into his blue eyes, Kiyoshi could imagine that Kuroko Tetsuya was alive again—

"Oh—who's this?"

Kiyoshi turned around at the voice. His eyebrows wiggled in surprise.

"Is that… Takao? And… Murasakibara's dad?"

Takao and the giant were sitting at a table not too far away from the cakes display. Takao blinked a couple times. "No, this is Murasakibara."

Kiyoshi laughed sheepishly. "Ah, sorry, sorry! I should have known. He just looked so different that I wasn't sure if it was him."

"Still as much of an airhead as ever," Takao said. "What brings you here? And speaking of dads, are _you_ a dad?"

Toru squawked indignantly and tried to tug his son out of Kiyoshi's unrelenting arms.

"He's _my_ son, TYVM!"

"His name is Shiroko Tetsuya," Kiyoshi said brightly. Takao grinned and poked Tetsuya's cheek, which puffed out in four-year-old indignation. "He's a friend of mine. He's four. And this is Shiroko Toru, who's—" Toru gave a VERY LOUD COUGH to cover his age, "years old and who used to be my family's lawyer back when…"

His voice trailed off, and Takao nodded understandingly. Murasakibara, on the other hand, was staring at Tetsuya very intently, a vaguely disturbed look on his face.

"What brings you here?" Kiyoshi said, apparently forgetting that it was Takao who had voiced that question first. Shrugging, Takao jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Murasakibara, who had pulled his eyes away from the boy and seemed to be chewing over something in his mind.

"This giant and I unwittingly became friends, and I was going to treat it to some cake since he's been kind of—of down, lately. Never thought I'd meet anyone like you here."

"Friends?" Kiyoshi said, blinking owlishly. "That's rather unexpected. I didn't think you two even knew each other that well."

Takao rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, well, you know, things happen. If you actually want the story, then… Midorima's been acting like a poop lately, and Murasakibra happened to show up when I was trying to talk to him. And then Midorima stormed off and left us alone, and we started talking and it came to this."

Kiyoshi nodded. "Midorima's having problems?"

The cake had arrived. Toru invited them to all sit at a table, so Takao and Murasakibara brought along their half-finished cakes. He helped Tetsuya with his fork while the others continued to converse.

"It's more like he's _forcing_ himself to have problems. You know, he's never been the same since… Kuroko," Takao said hesitantly, shooting a glance at the silent Murasakibara.

"Who has been…" Kiyoshi wondered rhetorically.

"But he's being so silly about it," Takao complained. "You know? There's no point in working himself to death, and I was just trying to give him a hand in sorting his life out. I mean, I still feel bad about Kuroko's death, but there's a time when you need to move on. And I'm sure he's trying to move on in his own way, but he's gotta do it smarter than this. I know that he's pushing himself to punish himself, and it's killing him," Takao ranted. He looked abashed, noting the way he was dominating the conversation. "Sorry. I didn't mean to go off on a rail like that, it's just that it makes me kind of mad."

"It sounds like you two had a big fight," Toru offered. "You must be good friends."

Takao looked puzzled. "Not… really. We were never friends. On retrospect, it's sort of weird how I'm expending so much energy on someone who's not my friend." He glanced at Murasakibara, who was poking at his cake gloomily. "I guess it'd be better to just leave it be…"

Before Kiyoshi could utter a word, Tetsuya suddenly banged his fork on his plate like a judge would with a gavel. He jiggled in his seat and looked triumphantly at Takao, cake smeared around his mouth. "But only friends fight! That's what I learned at school. See, I have this friend called Rei who has a friend called Gin and they got into a fight but you know the people who aren't friends with each other don't fight, that's what I noticed anyways, so if you can fight, you must be friends!"

Takao made a face. "That rule doesn't apply to everyone, kid. Countries war against each other all the time. And they aren't friends."

"Well then, they _should_ be friends," Tetsuya said, frowning. "Daddy said war is bad, but if they become friends after they fight, then maybe they won't go rawr rawr at each other all the time. And then when you're friends, you stick up for each other, and then there's no time to go rawr rawr."

"Well if you're comparing this to countries," Takao muttered, "it's more like Midorima's waging war within his own country. And I guess you could say that I'm trying to interfere and save him from himself."

Tetsuya sucked on his fork sagely, eyeing Takao with a blue too intense to belong to a four year old. With a plop, he pulled the fork out of his mouth.

"Do. Or do not. There is no try," he said gravely, and it took just about all Kiyoshi had to not burst out laughing. Toru, who looked to be on the verge of proud tears, sent Kiyoshi a withering glare at laughing at his son's words of wisdom that were taken directly from a fictional nine-hundred year old creature.

"And too bad! You already doing it! So you gotta do it!" Tetsuya said. Takao made a sound of protest.

"You're too young now, but when you grow up, you'll realize there are some things you just can't finish," Takao said weakly.

"But you're a superhero!" Tetsuya said stubbornly. Takao gaped at this stipulation and spluttered. "And superheros always finish what they start! You'll make me cry," he said, suddenly growing teary-eyed. "I don't like it when friends fight, so if you don't make it better, I'll cry."

"Th-That's cheap!" Takao stammered, looking utterly defeated. He should be immune to this move, damn it! His younger sister did it all the time! But the wide eyes… the trembling lower lip… this kid had it mastered. "D-Don't cry!"

Tetsuya gave a big sniff. "Promise you won't give up?"

Takao panicked as the first big tear fell. "I-I promise!"

Tetsuya held out his pinky finger solemnly, looking like he would burst into a waterfall of tears if Takao refused it. Takao, feeling very much like he was signing a contract with the devil, took the small finger gingerly and made the unbreakable vow.

And all too quickly, Tetsuya was a ball of sunshine and daisies again and was picking up his cake with his fingers.

Kiyoshi chuckled. "There's no backing out of this now, Takao. Pinky promises are sacred."

Takao groaned. "I have a younger sister, Iron Heart. I _know_. And if I ever do break it, I'll have the image of a crying brat haunting me for the rest of my life…"

Toru protested—_my son is not a brat!—_but nonetheless preened his son like a proud rooster.

"You're a poop, kid, you know that?" Takao said, poking Tetsuya's forehead. "I'm gonna take your cake away."

"Superheros don't steal!" Tetsuya shrieked, and Takao conceded, ruffling Tetsuya's black hair instead.

* * *

"I invite you to my humble abode to have dinner with me and a few guests," Toru put forth.

Kiyoshi shook his head a little regretfully. "I have work to do, sorry. Next time?"

Takao agreed, and Murasakibara said nothing, staring a little too intensely at Tetsuya, who was getting a ride on his father's shoulders and playing the drums with his father's head.

"It's decided, then. Now, in the spirit of youth—can I have yo numba?"

After having exchanged numbers, Murasakibara and the Shiroko family had left, Murasakibara to do who knew what and the Shirokos to pick up Kagami and subject him to a torturous dinner; and now, Takao and Kiyoshi were walking along the sunset-lit road, one with his hands in his pockets, the other with his arms behind his head.

"I never thought I'd see those eyes again," Takao commented during a bout of silence. "It was kind of a shock."

Kiyoshi chuckled. "You covered it well, then. Murasakibara… not so much. I guess that's to be expected, though, since he was closer to Kuroko than you were."

"Yeah…" Takao said, feeling a little sadness whisper in the corners of his heart. "I guess so."

"So how was it?" Kiyoshi said. "Meeting a boy with Kuroko's eyes?"

"Weird," Takao professed. "Really, really weird. I thought I was good with kids, you know? And then all of a sudden, bam, a kid I couldn't reason with, who had an overwhelming mindset to make me badger Shin-chan even more."

Kiyoshi's mouth twitched into a smile as the name unknowingly slipped from Takao's mouth.

"He has that effect on people," Kiyoshi agreed. "The odd ability to instigate change in others. They called me Iron Heart, but when my parents died, that name meant nothing. I was very, very lost, and then I met him—and everything changed."

Takao snorted. "Sounds like a love story."

Kiyoshi smiled.

"If you watch him in school, it's the same," Kiyoshi said. "He has a sort of strange 'charisma' I guess you could call it. When the other children are scared of doing something, he jumps forward and convinces them they're superheros and that he's their sidekick. And then, somehow, that child is capable doing it. He has this odd perceptional ability that solves problems before they even start. It's really quite amazing," Kiyoshi said with a laugh.

Takao was quiet for a while. Then, "I still haven't forgotten, you know."

Kiyoshi turned to him, a question raising his eyebrow.

"How he managed to start changing Shin-chan, and how that changed me—changed the team. It's weird," Takao said, eyes suddenly sharp. "It's such a weird coincidence, don't you think?"

Kiyoshi hummed, waiting for Takao to finish the thought Kiyoshi already knew.

"Two completely unrelated people with the same eyes and name were able to change people so easily. Kuroko changed pretty much everyone from the Generation of Miracles—and then that kid—Shiroko Tetsuya made me change, and apparently you, too. And the way you describe him—his ability to perceive things—"

"Don't tell me—" Kiyoshi said, looking aghast. "You think he's been possessed by the ghost of Kuroko!?"

Takao gave him a hopeless look and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Man, you people of Seirin… that's not what I'm saying at all! I'm just saying whatever's in my head right now. But hey, you know—I'd ask him to talk to Shin-chan for me just to see what happens, but it's kind of my duty now that he's pushed this 'superhero' business on me. But maybe…" Takao trailed off and turned his head around. "Murasakibara…"

"What's wrong with Murasakibara?"

Takao turned back around and looked down, scuffing the road. "I think he's depressed."

"You think so, too?" Kiyoshi said, surprised. Takao looked even more surprised at Kiyoshi's sudden astuteness.

"What, so you're not just an airhead?"

Kiyoshi laughed sheepishly. "Well, I thought it was pretty obvious at any rate, you know. He's gotten larger over the years, but he was poking at his cake, the sweets he loved so much."

"Yeah…" Takao sighed. "I'm guessing it started after Kuroko died. He started eating more and more. And then he has these mood swings, you know? He was telling me not to give up on Shin-chan and sounded like a freaking adult, and then the next day he looked all gloomy and told me to give up."

Kiyoshi just hummed and looked up into the sky. Clouds were beginning to collect despite how it had stormed just a few days ago. And yet the sun still shone on, impassive to the clouds' attempts to dampen its shine. He briefly wondered what Kuroko would see—perhaps to him, the clouds would merely be accompanying the sun, making it all the more beautiful when it emerged from behind their veil. Like a shadow and its light. Like Kuroko and Kagami.

He missed those days.

Sensing that Kiyoshi had lost himself in his thoughts, Takao remained silent, mulling over things in his own mind for the time being. The grass waved softly in the wind, and he thought how beautiful they would be laced with dewdrops and bathed in the sun's dying rays. He wondered what it would be like if Kuroko had not died five years ago—would he and Midorima be real friends? Would Murasakibara still be the fit giant he used to be? Would Kiyoshi no longer have that strange gleam in his eyes whenever he looked at the sky or at the boy with the sky blue eyes?

He shook his head. Wandering down the 'what if' lane was a pastime to be enjoyed or suffered only in small doses; explored too much, it would prove toxic. Here he was, a mere man, powerless to change the past. It was more worthwhile to focus on what he could change now, in the present.

* * *

"He always pokes his nose in places where it doesn't belong," Akashi sighed. He swept open the doors to the balcony and stepped outside, relishing the way the wind swept around him with its chilly fingers. Moonlight traced its fingers across his skin, lighting his eyes with an ethereal glow.

The night air smelled sweet, the scent it usually carried after a heavy rain.

The city lights twinkled at him from below; he enjoyed his position on the sixteenth floor because he could survey everything from above—_the natural position_ whispered the other side of him, but he pushed that voice beneath the nets in his mind. That era was long gone. Kuroko had shown him the way out.

"Young master?"

Without turning around, Akashi said, "Kenji. You should go home."

"But I cannot leave before the young master, especially when he is so troubled."

"Please address me as anyone else would," Akashi said. "It gives me a strange feeling when you address me as 'he' when I am standing right in front of you."

"My apologies," Kenji said. Then, more hesitantly, "By chance, did Shiroko-san say something to the young—to you?"

Akashi released an imperceptible sigh. "Nothing of importance. Just… that someone will die. But people die."

Unexpectedly and too soon, with too many people clinging to their remains, he added in his mind.

_Clean, blue hair without a single hint that it had been stained red not even a week ago. Closed eyes, skin hiding away blue eyes that would never see clear again. Cold hands that were touched; stiff body that was wept over; a soul that was gone. If wishes could come true, Kuroko Tetsuya would have been brought back to life at least seven times over._

_Akashi was having a difficult time focusing his eyes. His vision swam; sometimes he saw double, sometimes he saw everything through a great blur. When it came his time to pay his last respects to the body, he tried to do it with grace. But his trembling hands betrayed him as they swept across Kuroko's skin. And the only thing that came to mind was not a thank you or a be well or a come back but: Why you?_

"But the young—but you can do something about it, can't you? Otherwise Shiroko-san would have no reason to foreshadow this death."

"Indeed," Akashi murmured. Gold flashed across his mind's eye accompanied by a blinding smile. What a troublesome man Toru was, always throwing wrenches into people's lives. "Kenji, if I could ask you a favor…"

Kenji, as if it was his only dream in life to be asked a favor by his favorite person in the world, jumped to attention and brought his feet smartly together. "Anything the young master wishes for! If he commands me to jump to the moon, I shall do it! If he orders me to drown myself, it shall be done! If he wants me to once again throw myself off Macau Tower in a bungee jumping expedition—"

Akashi raised a hand, and Kenji silenced himself, joy bouncing off his face in waves.

"I'd like you to…"

The wind picked up, carrying along with it the noises of the city. Kenji nodded enthusiastically and gave a sharp salute before marching into the building. With a small chuckle, Akashi turned back to the city night view.

"Life is short," he said to no one in particular. Only the moon was listening. The city itself gave no mind to the one small man who had decided to stick an intervening hand into someone else's life. On and on it continued, relentlessly, emotionlessly, just as it had after Kuroko died, just as it always had.

"And time flows on…"

* * *

_Who are you, really?  
__Takao Kazunari.  
__You strange animal._

_lol I only say that because I wrote him as a motor mouth in this chapter, though I'm not sure if that's actually what he's like. Going off from his hawk-eye ability, I make him out to be a really perceptive person, with probably above average intelligence. Tell me what you think._

_There'll never really be any concrete evidence that Shiroko Tetsuya is Kuroko Tetsuya, which is why I changed the summary to include 'semi-reincarnation.' He will never get memories of Kuroko's past life; he will only exhibit some traits of Kuroko's. I don't intend to burden Shiroko Tetsuya with Kuroko's past life. He will simply be there, a guide (like Kuroko), and eventually (spoiler!), his time will come when he will need to be saved._

_Every now and then, I think about the way I killed off Kuroko, and it hurts a little bit. __Right now I'm wondering whether I should have made the Shiroko family a two-man family. But, too late now. I'll work with what I have._

**Guest:** thanks for that information! That is actually the perfect timing, huhuhu.


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